


The Untold Story of Sirius Black

by Katia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Bisexuality, Bottom Sirius Black, Drama, Friendship, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gay Sirius Black, Homoromantic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), POV First Person, POV Male Character, Person of Color Harry Potter, Romance, Sequel, Time Travel, Top Remus Lupin, Unofficial Sequel, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 72,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katia/pseuds/Katia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeing Sirius Black through Harry’s eyes is bound to result in a blind spot or two. Actually, three: Sirius was gay, had feelings for Remus, and had an oddly convoluted—albeit strong—relationship with James. A kaleidoscope of over 70 moments in Sirius’ life should set the record straight (pun intended). *A pseudo-sequel to Turning Time*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nine Fragments

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven’t read my other fic, Turning Time, you won’t be lost reading The Untold Story at first, but for later chapters in may help if you find you're confused.  
> If you're coming from another fan fiction site in order to read this explicit version, then thank you for taking the extra step!

 

**Hypothesis** : Sirius Black could be gay throughout the entire Harry Potter series. More than that, any character’s sexuality can be questioned, as Harry’s knowledge and perspective is limited. He only saw what was normal to him, what he expected, and as the books took place biased toward his lens, we can expect details were missed…

**Conclusion:**

**21 July, 1968 11:26**

“Disgusting.”

I hung back, unsure of who my mother was talking to. Her voice sent a shiver down my back. I’d heard it somewhere before but couldn’t remember where.

“I thought we were better than them.”

“Apparently not,” my father replied, just as serious.

“When they overturned the buggery laws for the Muggles last year, you remember what I said, don’t you?” 

“I remember we both knew it was only a matter of time—”

“…before the Ministry did the same, and look what has happened now.” 

I could tell my parents were angry, but my curiosity led me step out into the kitchen.

“Sirius.” My mother noticed me and glanced at my father before saying, “Sirius, we’ve told you it’s wrong for two men to be together like your father and I.” 

“What about two women?” I asked, then when I noticed my dad smile, I giggled. I didn’t get the joke, but it was rare my dad so much as turned up a corner of his mouth.

My mother bent down so we were at eye level. I knew in that moment how serious she was. “I want to make this very clear, Sirius. Muggles, they are animals. I can’t explain it very clearly to you yet, but know that they do things that are bad. Dirty. And wanting to…to hold hands and kiss someone who is the same sex as you is wrong.”

I nodded. “Okay. Are you mad at me?”

She glanced at my father. “We’ll be alright, Sirius. We know what’s right for Britain, and know the Dark Lord will fix this.” She hugged me briefly, and while I enjoyed the attention, I had a deep sense of shame that I didn’t understand.

**1 September, 1971 10:49**

Making friends had been difficult, since I’d yet to meet someone who wasn’t a complete twat. Boarding the Hogwarts Express, I could only hope that Hogwarts would be different, that the people would be—at the very least—tolerable.

I glanced into the first compartment from the door I entered. The boy sitting there looked up. “Hello.”

“Hello.” I put my trunk in the overhead compartment. Before I turned to sit, a girl rushed in, teary-eyed. She sat promptly down across from the boy and fixed her eyes outside the window.

The boy and I exchanged a glance before I sat next to him. “I’m Sirius Black.”

He smiled, then shook my hand. “James Potter.” He was slight, brown-skinned, black-haired, bright-eyed. Part Indian, maybe? He seemed bearable, but then again, his straight posture reminded me of the rich arses from my primary school.

“Where’re you from?”

“St. Albans. You?”

I was right, he was rich. “Islington, London.” I could tell James was assessing me, studying my features, but I pretended to not notice.

A boy slid open the compartment door and sat down opposite the crying girl. She glanced at him and then looked back out of the window. “I don’t want to talk to you,” she told him, voice constricted.

James, ignoring them, took out his wand and addressed me. “Wanna see some magic I taught myself?”

I nodded and propped my arm up.

“Alright, watch this.” He waited for someone to walk past the compartment. _“Rubrum rosea,”_ he said, and with a swish of his wand, the boy took on a vibrant pink pigment.

I laughed. “Bloody hell, how long d’reckon he’s gonna be like that?”

“Oh, it should wear off by the time we’re at Hogwarts.” James’ teeth were white, straight.

“…You’d better be in Slytherin,” the boy next to me said to the red-headed girl.

“Slytherin?” James’ attention flipped to the two strangers. “Who wants to be in Slytherin?” James scoffed and turned to me. “I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“My whole family have been in Slytherin,” I said, unsmiling.

James regarded me, surprise exaggerated. “Blimey. And I thought you seemed all right!”

I grinned; so he didn’t care. “Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?”

James lifted an invisible sword. “Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart! Like my dad.”

The boy made a small, disparaging noise.

James turned on him. “Got a problem with that?”

“No,” said the boy, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy—”

I cut him off. “Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?”

James roared with laughter.

The girl stood up, rather flushed, and glared from James to me. “Come on, Severus, let’s find another compartment.”

“Ooh…” James and I imitated her lofty voice; James tried to trip the boy—Severus—as he passed.

“See ya, Snivellus!” I called as the compartment door slammed.

It took a while for us to stop laughing. When we’d recovered, James said, “I’m glad you don’t want to be in Slytherin. I mean, hell, look at that kid. Evil, I’ve heard, the whole lot.”

I snorted. “You’re telling me. My mother, father, cousins, everyone—all Slytherins, and all…” I thought for a moment, searching for the right word.

“Dickheads?” James suggested.

I smirked. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

Time is supposed to go by quickly when you’re having fun. But by the time we got off the train, it felt like years had passed. I was overcome with the distance between my new life and the one at home. I could almost sense that the times were splitting.

The sensation of a fresh start overwhelmed me as we made our way through Hogwarts. James and I were amazed at every aspect of the school; the statues, the ghosts, and above all, our headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

I was one of the first to be called up to be sorted. 

After I put on the Sorting Hat, it said, “Ah…another child of the Black family…But what do we have here? Cunning, sure, but ambitious, not so. A strong distaste for Slytherin, too…I suppose my choice is clear—GRYFFINDOR!” 

I split into a wide grin. Murmurs broke out at the Slytherin table among the applause. I noticed the dumbstruck expression on Narcissa’s face and shot her a smug look.

After I took my seat by the upperclassmen and waited to see who else was sorted. Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Mary MacDonald, Peter Pettigrew, and Cheresse Podmore were all sorted into Gryffindor. Finally, James sat down in the chair. The hat had barely grazed his hair when it exclaimed, “GRYFFINDOR!”

James bounded over to join the Gryffindor table. He immediately introduced himself to the other boys.

“Hello, I’m James Potter.” James shook their hands.

“Sirius Black.” I grinned, following James’ gesture.

“Remus Lupin. And this is Peter Pettigrew.” They smiled politely at us, then returned to their close observation of the Sorting.

After Lauren Tempah, Florence Tyler, and Aluria Vane were sorted into Gryffindor, Dumbledore invited us to eat.

James let Lily alone for the rest of dinner, but I could tell that he was very aware of her proximity, eyes shifting ever so often when she laughed.

After dinner, we headed to our dormitory. “I call the bed by the door,” James said, carrying his things over.

I chose the bed across the room from him. Peter took the bed next to James, Remus the one next to me.

“So, Remus, where’re you from?” James glanced at me, smirking. We thought there was something off about him.

“Basildon.” 

“Oh, I’ve been to Basildon,” James said.

“D’you have family there?”

James shook his head. “I haven’t much family. My dad and my mum are about it.” 

“Me too,” Peter and Remus said at the same time, then glanced at each other, the sad statements broken by the coincidence.

I waved off their pity party. “You lot are lucky. I have tons of family, but they’re all pureblood, so they’re all about You-Know-Who and keeping the bloodline clean…”

“That is worse, I’d think,” Remus said.

“Thanks.” I pretended to glare at him before chuckling. “No, you’re right. So you’re not pureblood, then?”

“I’m half-blood. My mum’s a Muggle, she’s Welsh, and my dad’s a wizard, English, he works for the Ministry.” Oddly, Remus stopped after that to continue unpacking.

James went next. “My mum’s from an Indian pureblood family, and my dad’s from England, also pureblood. We’re not with Voldemort, we’re against him, of course.”

“My family—we live in Rudgwick—they prefer to stay out of things like this, to be honest,” Peter said. “But I’d quite like to do my part in the war.”

James took out one of his Quidditch posters. “I wish we had more training. All these courses to prepare us for planting things, appreciating animals…we could use real training, real magic to get us ready to fight.” 

“As long as our professors teach us well, I think we’ll be fine,” Remus said, then lowered his head, embarrassed.

James and I glanced at each other, then he asked, “Remus, how’d you get your scars?”

I raised my eyebrow at James, then looked at Remus.

“I’d rather not talk about it…” He avoided our eyes, unpacking quickly.

I opened my suitcase and fished out pajamas. “That’s alright. Scars aren’t bad, you know. It’s worse being a prick. Just talk to anyone in my house for at least five minutes, you’ll understand what I mean…”

“You don’t have to be defined by your family.” Remus looked at me seriously, and I prickled with either annoyance or…something else.

“I know. That’s why I hate that my name is Sirius, it’s been passed down in my family.” 

“What’s it mean?” James asked.

Before I could reply, Remus said, “It’s a star in the constellation Canis Major.” Remus hurried to explain himself after I raised my brow at him. “Sorry, I know because my mum’s obsessed with astronomy. Legends and things, too. That’s why she named me Remus—it’s from…” He paused, face turning red. “I—I can’t remember.” 

There was an awkward pause, then James said, “My name means ‘brilliant, handsome, and talented’ in old English.” 

“Really?” Peter lit up with admiration, then realized James was kidding and frowned. “Oh.” 

I snickered. Remus smiled, too.

“I’m a compulsive liar. Just kidding,” James added, with a pointed look at Peter. Then he said, “There’s a paradox for you.”

I didn’t get it, but Remus chuckled.

Catching my expression, James said, “Sorry if my humor’s too highbrow for you, Sirius.” 

Ignoring his comment with a smile, I instead asked Remus, “At school, were you the kid everyone loathed for being a know-it-all?”

Remus winced. “I was home-schooled.”

James glanced at me. “That must’ve been awful.”

Sensing we hadn’t tried to be malicious, Remus recovered. “Yeah, it was. There wasn’t anyone my age where I lived, I really only had my family.” He didn’t meet our eyes. “It’s common for wizards, you know, to be home-schooled, it’s not just me.”

James sat up. “Wait—are we the first people you’ve met that’re your age?”

Remus fidgeted. “I suppose so.” 

I worked through my opinion of Remus. He was shy, but not necessarily awkward—just unused to…I couldn’t figure it out. I hadn’t realized I was staring at him until he looked up and met my gaze. A shiver ran through me.

Remus looked to James. “Did you go to boarding school, then?”

“Yeah. All boys’ boarding school, too.”

The image of his immediate infatuation with Lily flashed in my mind. “So what’s the longest you’ve ever spoken to a girl?”

“Including you, or…?” He chuckled. “I dunno, there’s always been family friends and stuff, sometimes. But I suppose I’ve never really been friends with a girl. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“To be honest, I thought I’d be the only one who hadn’t kissed anyone yet.”

I pulled on my pajama top. “Just give it a month or so, then you’ll be in trouble. All those hormones are bound to get going.”

“Great. How’ll I get Lily to snog me by the end of September?”

“Oh, Merlin…” I said, and we all laughed.

Most people need a month to really get to know someone, decide if they want to be friends. For us, it only took the rest of the night. We had reached the point by four in the morning where we couldn’t stop laughing, where anything anybody said or did was hilarious. My gut felt tingly, a numbing sort of warmth that bubbled up to my lips in the form of laughter.

Sitting cross-legged on our beds, realizing it was already the best day of our lives, I decided we were made for each other.

**18 September, 1971 20:12**

James looked between us. “I’ve been waiting to show you this.” He rummaged through his things and pulled out a silvery cloak.

“What is it?” I reached out to touch it.

“An invisibility cloak. Been in my family for generations.”

I looked up from the cloak. “Do you realize what we could do with something like this?”

James grinned. “Exactly.” He pulled it over himself and vanished. 

Peter laughed a little with excitement.

“Just think,” said James’ disembodied voice, “With this, we can rule Hogwarts.”

**2 November, 1971 05:02**

“Guys, wake up.”

I stirred, but only got up when Peter shook me.

James groaned. “Peter, for your sake, I hope it’s time for breakfast.”

“No, that’s not it. Remus is gone.”

A louder groan. “You heard of the loo? He’s probably taking a piss.”

“He left straight after we went to bed at ten thirty.”

“Taking a shit, then?” I grumbled, pressing a pillow over my head.

“It’s six in the morning. I’ve woken up a few times during the night, he hasn’t been back—”

“How about you check the toilet and the common room and if he’s not there, we’ll look for him.” James suddenly sounded awake.

After a minute, I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “What’s the worst that could’ve happened? And anyway, how’re we gonna do anything about it?”

Peter returned. “Couldn’t find him.”

“Looks like we’re going on a hunt. Here, let me enchant your shoes so they’re not as loud.” James muttered something and waved his wand, one time per shoe. “Okay, now why don’t we check the Hospital Wing first? He’s looked awful the past couple days, maybe he’s come down with something.”

I stood up and stretched. “And what if he’s not there? It could be another family emergency.”

James yawned, then said, “I suppose. If he’s not there, we’ll assume that until the morning, and ask Dumbledore.”

“Alright.”

Peter and I lined up behind James and he threw the cloak over all of us. We’d managed before with four people underneath the cloak, traveling across the entire school, so we could maneuver well enough to the Hospital Wing with the three of us.

There was a singular lamp lit in the very corner of the Wing. But even in the dark we could’ve recognized Remus’ sleeping form.

“I’ll go out first.” James slipped out from under the cloak and crouched down beside Remus’ bed. He reached out and shook Remus’ shoulder lightly.

Remus jerked awake, looking around quickly. He realized who James was, then asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve brought the others, they’re under the cloak, hang on.”

As we emerged, Peter said, “You left in the middle of the night.”

“I didn’t feel well.”

I noticed a bandage on his face. “Then what’s that?”

“This?” Remus reached up slowly and gestured to it. “Er, there were these weird sores that appeared on my face, on account of me being sick.”

James glanced at me. “Are you okay now?”

“I’m fine. Look, you all should go back, try and get more sleep before breakfast. Really, I’m fine.”

James heaved a sigh. “Well, get better.”

**9 December, 1972 16:15**

“I figured it out. I know where Remus has been every month since our first September at Hogwarts.” James held his chin up, smug.

“Well…” I nudged him. “Out with it.”

“Okay, so I’ve been looking for a pattern in his excuses, something to connect his absences…He’s been gone once a month, sometimes one night, sometimes a few days. We knew that. But more exactly, the absences always have been about 29 days apart.”

“So?”

“So guess what’s about 29 days apart?”

Peter fidgeted with impatience. “What?”

“The full moon.”

_The full moon. So Remus was…?_

“He’s a werewolf. It makes sense: the scratches, the sickness, the secrecy.”

Peter was more taken aback than I was. “A werewolf? Do you think Dumbledore knows?”

“He has to know.”

“So what are we gonna do?” Peter asked, and we looked at James.

James shrugged. “Ask him, I suppose. There’s nothing he can do now that we know.” He paused, thinking. “What I don’t get is why Remus didn’t tell us.”

“Let’s find out, then,” I said. “I’ll fetch him.”

I hurried down to the common room and found Remus sitting next to Lily, laughing. “Hey, Remus, we’re going over plans upstairs.”

Remus looked up, crestfallen. “Oh, sure, alright.”

“We’ll continue this tomorrow.” Lily smiled, touching his arm before getting up and joining Aluria Vane by the fireplace.

“You and Lily are getting along well.” I said, once we were out of earshot.

“Yeah, she’s a laugh.” Remus didn’t say anything else, like he was holding back. 

After we entered the dorm, I closed the door behind us. James and Peter sat on their respective beds, so we sat down on ours.

“Remus, will you be completely honest with us?” James asked, holding Remus’ gaze.

Remus furrowed his brow. “What d’you mean?”

“I figured out that you’re a werewolf.”

Remus stiffened. “Why would you think—”

“It wasn’t hard to figure out.” He spotted a break in Remus’ composure so he added, “Well, it was, but the regular illnesses? The family visits? We were sure to find out eventually.”

I realized something else. “The Shrieking Shack. The upperclassmen say once every month you can hear these screams—they say it’s ghosts—”

“Okay.” Remus took in a shuddering breath. “You’re right.”

Peter let out a tiny gasp. “But why—”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew this would happen. That you—you all wouldn’t want to be friends with me anymore. I didn’t want to come to Hogwarts because of it. Of putting people in danger, of getting too close—” His voice started to shake, so he stopped talking.

I gaped at him. “Why did you think it would change anything?”

“If anything, you’re cooler now,” Peter added.

“That’s a bit of a stretch, Peter, but at least—Sirius is right.” James met his eyes, solemn. “It’s not going to change anything. Why should it? Even if we’d known before we were friends, it wouldn’t matter. Remus, there are worse things to be than a werewolf. A Death Eater, for one.”

Remus laughed a little, teary-eyed.

After a moment, Peter asked, “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”

Remus’ expression fell. “No. No, I haven’t.”

I shot Peter a look, then asked Remus, “How long have you been a werewolf?”

“Have you heard of Fenrir Greyback? He bit me when I was seven. Since then…well, there’s no cure for being a werewolf. Nothing to ease the process.” Remus chewed his lip. “So I would transform, every month, and—it’s the most painful thing I think anyone—at least that I’ve experienced. Transforming into a werewolf, it’s though your body is being pulled in every direction, your bones grind against each other, and I—I forget who I am.”

Remus glanced up, expecting us to have lost interest, perhaps, then found that we were engrossed, so he continued.

“Before it started, my parents would have to lock me up in this room, in our basement. At first, they would wait by the door, and after I changed back, they would hold me and cry. Eventually, perhaps I was nine, they simply turned the music up and waited upstairs. It was too hard for all three of us to endure.” Remus put his head in his hands, then continued, “After I finished transformations, they’d have to dress my wounds, help me into bed.” Remus looked up, eyes red-rimmed but dry. “I had no friends. I didn’t think I could have any. Hogwarts was an idea, but didn’t seem possible until Dumbledore visited. He told us they’d plant a tree, create a tunnel leading to a shack in Hogsmeade where I could transform in peace. He said the teachers would know, but they wouldn’t mind.”

Remus looked at us. “And here we are.”

James stood and sat down next to Remus. “Thanks for telling us, mate.”

I got up. “Let’s have a chat with Dumbledore, tell him we know.”

**7 November, 1972 23:10**

James leaned back in his chair. “We’ve got to focus on the Slytherins.”

Remus nodded. “Right, there’s no point in bothering anyone they’ve targeted, too.” After we raised our eyebrows at him, he added, “For now.”

James closed his eyes. “Snivellus, then. It’s been at least a week, hasn’t it? Since we’ve done something?”

“That’s only because we’ve been caught up in schoolwork,” Peter rushed to say. 

“That’s true.” James opened his eyes and sat up. “I’ve got it. Simple, effective. If we do it, and they retaliate, anything similar wouldn’t be so embarrassing for us.”

After James told us his idea, we figured out a time and place. The next day, we waited until after Potions to make our move.

_“Confundo,”_ James said, and Snape stopped. We pulled him into the bathroom, and he started to peel off his clothes.

Peter, James, and I giggled; once he was down to his underwear, we lost it.

A fire had been lit inside me. I hadn’t felt this good since the last time we’d messed with Snape.

_“Confundo,”_ James said again, and Snape set off as usual to lunch, oblivious to what he was—or wasn’t—wearing.

Remus crossed his arms. “If we get to lunch first, they might not suspect us.” Before we could object, he continued, “Or you could see the whole thing, either way—” 

James crossed to the door. “Let’s go, then!”

We hurried out of the bathroom and took every shortcut we could manage. By the time we made it to the Great Hall, Snape hadn’t shown up yet.

“C’mon, let’s sit here.” I gestured to a bench not too close to or far away from Lily.

We only had to wait a minute before Snape entered the room. Slowly, people began to notice, and whispers turned to laughter.

I looked at Mulciber and Avery, hoping to find they were infuriated, but they weren’t. If anything, they were annoyed at Snape, not whoever was responsible for his state. “They don’t bloody care,” I said to Remus, who looked at me as though I’d been born that day.

“It’s not as though they’re friends,” Remus said.

I regarded him, confused. “Of course they are.”

Remus shrugged. “By association, you could call them that. They aren’t like us. They wouldn’t care about that sort of thing.”

Mulciber took off his cloak and handed it to Snape without looking at him, face twisted in disgust. So maybe they weren’t friends, but that was Snape’s fault.

**21 December, 1972 16:15**

“Hang on, Sirius, d’you mind treating my scars? I don’t usually get them on my back where it’s hard to reach…”

“Sure. Where’s the—?”

“Over here.” Remus handed me the lotion and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Oh, sorry.” He took off his shirt. “How bad is it?”

The cuts crisscrossed across his back, red, angry. “It’s…not so bad. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah. Of course it’s better than it was right after…”

“Shit, okay, I’m gonna be honest, Remus, this is awful. I haven’t a clue how you managed to keep this to yourself.”

“I’ve done it since I was attacked, so it’s not as difficult as you’d imagine.”

“Still, I—we’re best friends. You know now we won’t abandon you for anything like that.” At this, Remus trembled, so I had to change the subject. “Alright. It’d probably be easier if you lie down.”

“Okay.” Remus lay on his stomach, arms folded to serve as a pillow.

I squeezed some of the lotion onto his back, and he shuddered.

“Cold?”

“Yeah, a bit.” 

“Tell me if it hurts.”

Remus’ voice was a bit muffled. “This is the last dose, so it won’t hurt once everything’s covered.”

Using small circular motions, I moved the lotion as lightly as possible until his back was covered.

Remus turned his head to see if I was finished. “Alright, you should be able to rub it in now.”

“You’re sure it won’t hurt?”

“Positive.”

I placed my hands on his shoulder blades and began to massage his back.

Remus let out a tiny moan, then became very still. “Sorry.”

My heart pounded. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, it’s good…” he said, voice drifting off.

I positioned my knees on either side of him and pushed my palms into his back. “You’re really tense.” 

“Mhm.” His voice was faint.

After a moment’s contemplation, I worked my hands farther down, to his lower back, where the cuts has tapered off. Remus flinched, his breath catching, but he didn’t protest. I brushed my fingers against Remus’ skin, then ran my hands down his sides and up again, causing him to arch his back.

“That’s good,” he said quickly.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well, put your shirt back on and we’ll go back to the common room to—” But Remus wasn’t moving. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ll catch up, just—you can go without me.”

I raised an eyebrow, but as he was still pressed onto his stomach, he didn’t catch the look. “Alright.” I grabbed my wand and went downstairs.

Ten minutes later, Remus joined us at our usual table.

“Still hurting?” James asked as he dealt us a hand for Exploding Snap.

Remus shook his head, face flushed. He wouldn’t look at me. What had I done? Had it been weird, back in the dorm? Oh, shit. Did he think I was…?

For the rest of the night, Remus couldn’t speak a word to me directly. He could hardly laugh at anything any of us said. So before we went to bed, while James and Peter went to brush their teeth, I tried to think of what to say to him. Just as I was about to speak, he looked up from his book and said—

“I’m feeling better. Sorry, I know I was acting out of sorts. It’s just that the transformations wear me out, and this past one was awful.”

He didn’t meet my eyes, but maybe it was for another reason. I wasn't particularly great at reading his emotions, so I had to assume nothing had changed between us. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”

**16 January, 1973 21:15**

“Sirius, d’you mind helping? I’m gonna clean the dorm.”

“Why have I got to—” I caught his expression, and stopped. “Fine.” What could he want? 

Once we were upstairs, Remus shut the door.

My heart thudded. I imagined him locking the door, crossing to me and kissing me. I took a deep breath to bring myself back to reality.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Okay…?” I sat down on my bed, and he sat across from me.

Remus breathed in deeply, then exhaled. “You can’t tell James.”

I nodded, truly unable to anticipate what he’d say—

“I fancy Lily. I have for about a while now.”

“Oh. So—”

“I don’t want to fancy her. James fancied her first, and he hasn’t much intention of not fancying her, it seems…”

“Right. So you want my help setting you up with someone?”

“I suppose, but who would…who would fancy me?”

Without meaning to, I looked intensely at Remus, who met my gaze before turning his gaze away. I cleared my throat. “Why don’t we throw a Valentine’s Day party so you can pick someone there?”

“Pick someone? Like I’m shopping? I don’t know if I—”

“Well, you have to, right? For James’ sake?”

Remus sighed. “I know. Sure, let’s have a party.”

“I suppose we actually have to clean now, don’t we?”

Remus rolled his eyes.

**14 February, 1973 17:01**

A month later, on Valentine’s Day, we finished setting up in the Gryffindor Tower.

“Okay, Remus and Peter, you’ve got the butterbeer?”

“Yeah. Two kegs. We put them by the snacks.”

“Brilliant. Sirius, music?”

“Ready. I have to ask around for more records, but otherwise it’s set up.”

James scanned the list. “That’s all we had left to do. I’m gonna wash up, fix my hair—make sure everything’s together by six!”

Later that evening, Remus and I watched James attempt—in vain—to gain Lily’s favor. I could tell the hand that held her drink was wound up, ready to throw her butterbeer on him when he crossed the line.

“You realize you’re moping,” I said to Remus, still eying the two of them.

Remus sighed. “Then what do call what you’re doing?”

“Touché.” I searched the room for a girl that would suit him. “Do you care what house she’s from?”

“No.” Remus, stubborn, was making it obvious he didn’t want to help me in my search.

“Age difference?”

“One year older or younger. If they’re older than third year and interested in me, there would be a problem with them, I think.”

“And finally, can it be a girl you’ve already fancied? Because if not, that eliminates six options.”

“Six? You think I’ve fancied six people here?”

“I was being generous. You want me to name them?”

“Fine. But keep your voice down.”

I started at the far left end of the room. “Cheresse Podmore, Mary MacDonald, Lauren Tempah—”

“What makes you think I fancied Cheresse Podmore?”

“Everyone fancied her in our first year.”

“Did you?”

I felt an uncomfortable jolt at the implication of answering truthfully. “No.”

“Then don’t include her. Who else?”

“Marguerite Sparrow—”

“Nightingale.”

“Marguerite Nightingale, Thriza Marr, and…Joan Norwood. Have I missed anyone?”

“Lily.”

“Right. Is there another girl?” He shook his head, so I said, “Why don’t we find someone like Lily. You seem to have a type.”

“A type. What’s my type?”

“Girls with a mouth on her. You know, they like to talk, to have their opinion known…”

“First off, you think that’s a bad thing?”

“No, just a preference.”

“Second, if I even have a type, it’s more than a ‘girl with a mouth on her.’”

“Oh yeah? What else?”

Remus turned pink. “I dunno. I suppose you’re right, I tend to like people who are outgoing.”

I surveyed the room. “Why not Ada Twiford, then?”

Remus followed my gaze. “I suppose I’ve always thought she was attractive.”

“There you go! Bring her a butterbeer. If you need Peter to be your wingman—”

“I can handle it.” Remus smiled, a bit nervously. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me until you’re spending your free time snogging.” Without waiting to see him go, I left to join James in his serenade to Lily. Before I could, I spotted one of our rivals, Raven Faralyn, as she walked into the room from the portrait hole. I pulled her aside. “Faralyn, you can’t be here. I thought common sense would tell you that.”

She glared at me. “You’re gonna do this in front of everyone?” 

I looked around. Some people were glancing in our direction, concerned. “They know you’re not innocent. That you’re basically a Slytherin. I know what my brother gets up to, and you two are best friends, right, so—”

“So I’m guilty of being friends with Regulus?”

“A crime in itself, sure.” I stepped closer to her. “Don’t pretend you aren’t planning on joining You-Know-Who after Hogwarts.”

“The invitation said no Slytherins. That was the only restriction, unless—”

“Sirius, what’s going on?” Remus stepped between us.

“Faralyn just showed up. I was just telling her—”

“Leave it, Sirius, I have to talk to you.”

I scowled at Faralyn, who raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, then said, “Fine. We’re not done, though.”

Once she’d walked away, Remus told me what happened. “I sabotaged it on purpose. She was nice, but I couldn’t bring myself—I don’t want to meet someone like this, at a party, I’ve decided.”

“You’d rather be friends first.”

“Yeah.”

 


	2. Nine Flashes of Memory

**10 March, 1973 12:09**

    Filch’s voice drifted through the corridor. “Where are they, Mrs. Norris? I know it was you four that broke in, come on, we haven’t got all night…”

    Remus and I scrambled for somewhere to hide. “Shit, shit.” We were almost to the Gryffindor Tower, but we needed to disappear.

    “Here!” Remus opened a nearby door and beckoned me in.

    “Hang on, I think it’s too small—”

    But we didn’t have a choice. Remus managed to shut the door, practically piling onto me. I held my breath; though it had only been a subconscious wish, I had wanted this.

    Remus dropped his voice to a whisper. We were so close, he hardly had to move his lips. “Why do they have an empty broom closet here? I’ve never seen it.”

    I shrugged, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. I felt responsible for his discomfort, somehow. I stepped so my feet were on either side of Remus’, then propped my hand on the door behind him, the only way I could shift my weight without leaning on him.

    The minutes ticked by, and the small distance between us became more and more obvious. I let the fantasies play out in my mind—almost against my will, as I didn’t want to show any arousal. I figured out how I would get the most dramatic effect, suddenly tilting his head and pressing my mouth to his. He would draw back, for a moment, to study me—how long have you felt this way?—and I would grin and push him harder against the wall, and we’d kiss again…

    Remus fidgeted, his voice a bit husky. “How long should we wait here?”

    I looked up at him, about to reply, but as I met his gaze I forgot what he had asked.

     _Kiss him._

    Remus, too, didn’t look away.

     _Kiss him._

I tried to stifle the thought, then realized I had unintentionally leaned closer. I turned my head. “Er, what did you ask again?”

     _Kiss him, do it now._

    “It doesn’t matter, I think Filch is gone by now.”

    “Oh, yeah, probably.” I tried to hide my disappointment as Remus shuffled to face the door. He tried the knob, and when it wouldn’t open, he tried again, more roughly. “It won’t budge.”

    “Here, let me try.” I reached for the knob, forced to press my body against Remus in order to secure a grip on it. I wasn’t any luckier. “It must be locked.” I reached for my wand and pointed it at the door.  _“Alohomora.”_

Nothing.

    Remus exhaled.  _“Lumos.”_ In the light, we could see there was a keyhole above the doorknob—so why wouldn’t it open?

    “Look for a key,” Remus said. He shuffled back to face me again, holding his arm down to illuminate the floor.

    I scanned the ground, then—“I see it, hang on.” There wasn’t much room to bend down, but I managed, fingers just barely able to grasp the key.

    “Got it.” I stood up, slowly, but was unable to avoid grazing Remus as I straightened. With hardly a glance at him, I fit the key in the hole and unlocked the door. After I leaned back, I felt Remus’ lips on my cheek.

    Shocked, I elbowed him in the gut.

    Remus groaned, hand at his stomach. “Bloody hell, Sirius…it was an accident.”

    I blinked, my heart racing. “How could that have been an accident?”

    Remus, after recovering from the pain, studied me. “I—I thought you felt it, too.”

    I swallowed. “Felt what?”

    Remus shook his head. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry.”

    This was my fault. I had confused him. It wasn’t possible for him to truly be attracted me, let alone any boy—and besides, it would never work. We were best mates. But I couldn’t give him a reason other than, “It was just being stuck in here together. It doesn’t mean anything. If it had been a girl, you’d surely be balls deep in her by now.”

    Remus’ brow furrowed, doubtful.

    “Well, there’s only one way to tell—”

    I reached past Remus and opened the door, nearly causing him to fall backwards. We took a moment to adjust to the light from the torches, then started down the hallway. With each step, I could feel the tension lift.

    “See? Just circumstance. If we had been trapped in a classroom, somewhere more spacious, nothing would’ve happened. It’s not your fault.”

    Remus nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.”

    I shook my head. “Everyone has times where they forget themselves. We’re all such attractive blokes, it was bound to happen at least once.”

    “You won’t tell James and Peter?”

    “What is there to tell? You like girls. There’s hardly a moment where you aren’t head-over-heels for some girl. But, sure, I won’t. ” His concern frustrated me, but not as much as his visible relief after I promised to keep it a secret.

**3 April, 1973 12:31**

    I reached into my pocket for my wand.

     _“Muffliato. Lumos Minimus.”_

    I pulled my covers over my head and set my illuminated wand next to me. I felt around under my pillow for my picture of Remus and lubricated my hand. The image of Remus smirked at me, mouth parting a little as he laughed. I imagined him kissing me, how his skin felt—warm, alive, heavy against me, the slow, steady rhythm of him, our closeness, the sound he made as he came—

    I slowed to a stop. Immediately after, I used a cleaning spell, then stuffed the picture back under my pillow, feeling sick to my stomach. My heart raced as I dug my nails into my palms, trying to calm myself. What had I done? I had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. I didn’t fancy Remus; I didn’t like boys. I was just around boys more than girls, and because of that, I didn’t feel attracted to them in the same way.

     _What the hell is wrong with me?_

    The worst part was I felt in my gut it wouldn’t be my last time giving in.

**26 May, 1973 14:08**

    “Sirius?” Remus had bent down to pick something up from the floor beside my bed. 

    “Hm?” Distracted, I was slow to to realize what he held in his hand.

    “What is this?”

    I looked up. It was the picture of Remus I kept under my pillow. Shit, shit,  _shit_. “A picture, obviously.”

    He didn’t falter. “I mean, why was it under your pillow?”

    Had he seen it fall out? “I dunno. You know how messy I am. I’ve lost things in my bed before.”

    Remus looked at the picture again. “But it’s from of a larger picture of the four of us. You cut everyone else out.”

    “So? I have pictures of just James, too.”

    “But you don’t keep them under your pillow.”

    “It wasn’t under my pillow on purpose! One of the house-elves probably moved it, I dunno, they’ve done shit like that before.”

    “So James keeps a picture of Lily under his pillow accidentally?”

    I gawked at him. “You mean you were messing around with his stuff?”

    Remus rubbed the back of his neck. “No, I—fine, yeah. He tosses off at night, too, and I was gonna call him out.”

    “Is that what this is? You think I…” I looked between the picture and Remus, unable to bring myself to say it.

    Remus flushed and shrugged.

    “I told you, I’m not a poofer.” I brushed past him and reached under James’ pillows. Sure enough, there was a picture of Evans from the bust up, smiling at the camera.

    “What about Peter?” I asked, ignoring Remus’ stare as I crossed to his bed.

    “Nothing. He does it in the shower, probably, like normal people with roommates should.” Remus didn’t stop me as I lifted up his pillows, probably knowing I wouldn’t find anything. “Do you want a better picture of me?” he asked.

    I froze. “What do you mean?” I turned to read his expression. “I told you, it wasn’t supposed to be—”

    “I know.” Remus rifled through James’ things to find the camera. “But if you wanted a picture of just me, you could’ve asked.”

    I swallowed. He was the picture of innocence, and I had to force myself not to read to much into how he was acting. It was just wishful thinking—but I shouldn’t be wishing it, either. “Yeah. Well then, I’ll, er, ask Peter for one later, too.”

    Remus nodded. “Right.” He handed me James’ camera, then went to the window. “If I stand in front of this windowpane, then it’ll look more natural, like I’m outside.”

    “Right.” I lifted up the camera, anxious to get it over with. I couldn’t tell if Remus intended on acting as though he fancied me, or if he was completely oblivious. Either way, I was forced to play along. “Push your hair out of your face. Otherwise I…” … _won’t see your eyes as I toss off._

    Remus smirked and pushed his hair back. Picture one. His scars were usually fainter in the sunlight, but the pink tinge on his cheeks brought out the white lines.

    “Why don’t you take a close-up?”

    I nodded, stepping a bit closer. Picture two.

    Instead of looking at the camera, Remus looked at me, unsmiling, his lips parted slightly. Picture three.

    “Now stand in front of your bed, so I have a picture of the dorm.”

    Remus nodded, but instead he lay down, one arm mid-stretch over his head.

    I took a deep breath, then positioned the camera directly over him. He looked into the camera like he was willing it to bend down, kiss him, fuck him…

    Picture four.

    Heart beating furiously, I handed the camera back to Remus, crossed to the side of my bed, and stuffed the pictures in my drawer. “Seeing as Lauren fancies you, she would like these. Do you want me to pass them along?”

    Remus’ voice was muffled as he put his shirt back on. “It doesn’t matter to me what you do with them.”

    I clenched my jaw, trying not to imagine that he wanted me in that moment. 

**14 September, 1973 14:39**

    I tapped the piece of parchment and said, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” to review what we had written.

     _Pranks…TOP SECRET_

_Snivellus: something to make Lily see what an arse he is, snakes? grease-related prank GOAL: make him cry again (it’s been a year, we need to do better!)_

_Christopher Barry: Taste of his own medicine…List of everything he’s done in the past year: tried to get Aluria to blow him; helped the Slytherins smuggle illegal shit from Hogsmeade because he’s a prick; generally being a dickhead_

_Eileen Myddelton: let’s try something strange, like her. Ideally, something involving Moaning Myrtle_

_Simon Rumblem: FAT ARSE Get a load of food, biscuits maybe, magical delivery system?_

_Avery and Mulciber: really raunchy confession to McGonagall of their love, or Binns? BINNS, DEFINITELY And get them caught for something_

_Ganymede Coburn: POOFER (confirmed!) something with penises (sp?)_

The last one, Ganymede, had been recently added on by James and Peter. Peter had simply written “POOFER” after his name. I stared at the letters until my eyes were dry and the word had lost its meaning. We hadn’t had as explicit a reason for targeting Ganymede before, but since he had publicly told people what he was, we—or they, rather—could now blame his sexuality.

**5 November, 1973 19:50**

    James and I had grown accustomed to lying on the couch together while everyone talked. Even though he was shorter than me, he let me rest my head against his shoulder, his hand playing absent-mindedly with my hair, or teasing the back of my neck. Sometimes we’d take turns massaging each other. Until recently, my only thought had been that it felt good, natural, but not…

    I flinched at James’ fingers on my shoulder. He was too busy listening to Remus explain something from last week’s History lecture to notice.

    “So why didn’t Binns just fucking say it like that? I understand the charm of having a ghost teach, but one day someone’s gonna die from boredom in his class, and imagine explaining that…” James continued on. I pretended to listen, instead looking over at Remus.

    Remus blushed and looked away. He had been staring at James’ hand, at the closeness of us.

    I let him believe I didn’t think anything of it. “James, my back is kinda sore. Can you help me out?”

    “Hm?” James paused, then ran a hand through his hair. “Sure. Anyway, I’m thinking we could get Peeves to help out. You know, just to figure out how to make the class more interesting.” He repositioned himself, legs on either side of me, and began to massage my back. “We could figure out his past, help him move on…I’m surprised no one else has done it yet.”

    I closed my eyes, losing myself in the feeling.

    James’ voice tickled in my ear. “Some of the girls are watching us.”

    I cracked an eye open. He was right; across from us, a group of girls stared at us, at James’ hands massaging me. Now they were looking, and Remus was looking.

    “Keep going, then.” I closed my eyes again.

    After a period of silence from James, he asked me, “Why do they like it so much?”

    My brow furrowed. “Dunno.”

    “Do you think it’d be hot if two girls did this?”

    I took too long to respond, so James continued, “Why is it hot, though? It must be because it’s forbidden. Surprising.”

    “Imagine how surprised would they be if they found out we were fucking.”

    James stopped, but kept his hands on my shoulders. “Not as surprised as I would be. Christ, the shit you say sometimes…” He chuckled. “Well, I’m finished here. They can dry off now, I’d think.”

**10 December, 1973 2:30**

    We tried to distract Remus, but he had hardly any energy to even laugh.

    “I’m going to turn any minute.”

    James and I exchanged a look. “And?”

    “So leave. It’s not safe.” Remus sat up and began to take off his shirt.

    I stared. “What are you doing?”

    Remus furrowed his brow a little. “If I keep my clothes on, they’ll get ruined.” Pink singed his pale face. “Another reason for you all to go.”

    James’ eyes didn’t stray from Remus’. “That’s bullshit, we’re not leaving you.”

    Peter looked away as Remus slipped off his pants, then said, “And—and you’ll get hurt, won’t you? Maybe we can do something…”

    “I knew this was a stupid id—” Remus convulsed.

    “Go, go,” I told James and Peter, who rushed to the door, but didn’t leave.

    Remus bent forward, limbs shaking. I inched closer, then rested my hand on Remus’ shoulder. Maybe it was irrational, but I thought he would recognize me—or any of us, I supposed.

    Then James was grabbing my arm, pulling me back to the door. “He’ll turn us, or kill us. C’mon, for fuck’s sake!”

    I let James drag me back, watching as fur sprouted from Remus’ skin. He let out a long howl before turning his wolfish head toward us.

    Peter shut the door just as Remus made a first leap toward us.

     _“Colloportus!”_  To hide the tremor in his voice, James shouted the spell.

    Remus threw himself against the door, growling. After several minutes, his protests turned to whimpers, then silence.

    “D’you reckon he’s given up?” Peter asked.

    A low growl from the other side of the door was enough to answer his question.

    James sat down, head hung in thought. “We’ve gotta do something more.” He looked up. “Was anyone paying attention to Remus when he told us about werewolves?”

    I tried to remember. “Hang on…he said—well, werewolves only hunt humans, right? Well, we could transfigure ourselves into animals, like Professor McGonagall.”

    “I don’t think it’s that easy. She’s a—oh, what’s it called. An Animagus. You have to be registered and shit.”

    “And…?” I smirked at James.

    He grinned. “And now I know what our next project is.”

**15 January, 1974 16:52**

    I turned the corner and nearly ran into Ganymede. “Oh, sorry.”

    “That’s okay.” He ducked his head and kept moving.

    “Hang on!”

    Ganymede started and turned around.

    “I told James and the others not to bother you anymore,” I said as we walked to the next landing.

    Ganymede stopped, brow furrowed. “Thank you.”

    “Well, you didn’t deserve it. You don’t have to thank me.”

    Ganymede studied me, then stepped closer.

    My cheeks turned hot and my stomach felt light, tingly. As though disconnected from my mind, my hands reached up and rested on the sides of Ganymede’s head. I pulled him in and kissed him on the lips.

    Ganymede placed one hand where my neck met my shoulder, one at my waist. He got over his surprise, and I could feel his lips curl into a smile.

    After a minute, I pulled away. We stared at each other. I knew he had kissed multiple blokes before, but this was my first time with anyone.

    I leaned in to kiss Ganymede again, but he ducked away. “Er—I can’t.”

    As the passion of the moment faded, I realized I had fucked up. If anyone found out about this, I’d be ruined. Remus would know I’d been lying, and more importantly, if James found out, I knew everything between us would change.

    Ganymede continued, “You’re attractive, sure, but you’re…too much of a prick. And, I know what you’re gonna ask, and yeah, I won’t tell anyone.” He turned to go.

    “How long have you known?”

    “That I was gay?” Ganymede trained his blue eyes on me. “Since I was nine, I suppose.”

    I nodded. I didn’t even know now, at fourteen.

    Ganymede softened. “I’m sorry. You want my advice? Wait until after Hogwarts before coming out. Before getting with a bloke, even. Date girls if you have to, but it’s not worth doing everything in secret. I’ve tried that.”

**26 December, 1975 11:19**

    James sat down across from us, clearly excited. “So I’ve been looking through the book my dad gave me yesterday, and I think I’ve found something to help me with Lily.”

    I glanced at Remus’ paper for the answers as I suggested, “A spell to add three inches to your manhood?”

    Remus sighed and moved his paper closer to me, then said, “Personality transformation potion?”

    James clapped us on the back, a little too hard to be playful. “Nope. And if you hear that either of those exist, let me know.” He raised his voice a little, signaling us to stop what we were doing so we could pay attention. “It’s a memory-loss potion.”

    Remus paused in chewing his quill. “How’s that different from a memory spell?”

    “This one lasts twelve hours, and it targets a specific person, or specific people. Then after the effects of the potion wears off, the drinker forgets the events of the previous twelve hours. So…”

    “So?”

    “So Lily forgets she ever knew the Marauders for a day. I make a good impression and see if it makes a difference without her ever knowing I did it. Could she come to tolerate me, or fancy me, or…or is it natural for her to hate me?”

    Remus glanced at me, then back at James. “You sure you want to find out?”

    James shrugged. “Why not?”

    Remus motioned for James to hand him the book. “Let’s see what supplies we need.”

    The next morning, James words roused me from sleep. I lifted my head. “What did you say?”

    “Remus is gone. He must’ve gone to breakfast early…”

    There was a pause, so I looked over. James held the memory-loss potion in his hand, The bottle was clear.

    We realized what must’ve happened at the same time. The potion had been on Remus’ nightstand, so that meant somehow he had taken it. “Shit.”

    Downstairs, in the Great Hall, we spotted Remus sitting alone at Gryffindor table. At least he could remember his house.

    “Should we tell him?” Peter asked.

    “Of course we should—” James stopped. “Maybe not.”

    “Why not?” The guilt was immediate.

    “Who knows how he’d react. Plus, we could see what he’d think of us if he’d met us now.”

    I fidgeted. “Oh, alright. Let’s at least sit with him, then.”

    We walked over and, as was custom, James introduced himself first. “Hey, I’m James Potter.”

    Remus shook his hand, then looked to me.

    “Sirius Black.” I shook his hand, too, but for longer than James had, it seemed. There was a hitch, too, in Remus’ composure. I searched for the same fumbling when he “met” Peter, but it wasn’t there.

    We made idle chat with Remus, but failed to impress him; he excused himself once he finished breakfast, saying something about wanting to get to class early.

    “What do you think it is? Why does he hate us?” James pushed his plate away, appetite lost.

    “He doesn’t hate us, it’s just that he doesn’t like us,” Peter said.

    “Thanks, Peter. That—”

    Peter cut him off. “If you hate someone, you probably wouldn’t change your mind. If we just doesn’t like us, all we have to do is prove to him we’re good blokes.”

    Later in the day, I almost started to tell James that Remus was staring at us, but I realized he wasn’t staring at us—he was staring at me.

    As soon as I looked back, he looked away. The same thing happened at least three times over the course of the day. I could no longer tell myself it was an accident.

    Remus was attracted to me.

    We managed to stall him in the Gryffindor Tower long enough before dinner for the potion to wear off. He nearly collapsed, so we had to help him up to the dorm and to his bed.

    James was the first to speak. “We think we figured out why you took it, but—”

    “Took what?” Remus sat up and rubbed his eyes.

    “You took the potion we were gonna give to Lily.” James grabbed the other potion from his dresser drawer and held it up. “You mistook it for this experimental stuff one of the house-elves left for you last night.”

    Remus blinked. “Bloody hell, you’re right.” He thought for a moment. “Did you tell me what you’d done while I was on the stuff?”

    I shook my head. “Too many things could’ve gone wrong. We didn’t know what to expect.”

    Peter cleared his throat. “And…you kinda hated our guts, Remus.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Whenever we laughed in class, or passed notes, you’d glare at us.”

    “Glare at you?”

    As James and Peter explained, I thought of the moment I was keeping to myself. It was small, really, we were just washing hands next to each other in the loo. But nervous energy had been radiating off of him, I was sure of it.

**27 March, 1976 21:47**

Remus pulled on his trousers, uncomfortable with his own nakedness.

    “It worked!” I high-fived James and Peter, then hugged them. Over a year of work and we’d done it. Not only had managed to distract Remus in his werewolf form, we had also perfected transforming into Animagi.

    Remus was grinning, too. As I approached, he gestured to his bare chest. “No cuts. Now I’m not afraid anymore.”

     _Not afraid._  Perhaps it was those words, or the adrenaline pumping through me, or seeing Remus this way that made me take him and kiss him.

    The sound of our lips reverberated in the silence, sending self-doubt roaring into my thoughts.

    A hand rested on my shoulder from behind, and I pulled away in surprise.

    After turning around, James immediately pressed his lips onto mine, the intensity of his embrace doubling my bewilderment. But it didn’t make sense to ask questions, not when I was so caught up in his fingers in my hair, which sent electric shivers down my spine to my—

    James let me go. “I knew it.”

    I shook my head once, confused.

    “You’re a fag, I mean.” James looked between my eyes and my lips.

    No. No, no,  _no_ , this couldn’t be happening. “And you’re not?”

    James thought a moment. “No. None of us are.” He glanced at Peter and Remus, whose eyes were wide, mouths ajar. “But this is the one opportunity we’ll have to practice, right? Wormtail, don’t you want to know what you’re doing your first time with a girl?”

    Peter looked horrified, as though he’d just realized he’d joined a gay sex cult. “But I’m—but I’m not a queer!”

    James rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to be. Pretend he’s a girl; it’s not hard. What about you, Moony?”

    Remus had been staring at me the entire time, face flushed. Trying to seem casual, he merely shrugged.

    “Alright then. Wormtail, you first.”

    I wasn’t that attracted to Peter, mostly because he had never showed a propensity for me like he had for James—so what was the point in risking our friendship? But one of us had to be confident about it, so I approached him, placing my hands on either side of his face. “Don’t worry, it’s simple. Easier than you’d think. Just follow my lead, alright?”

    Peter took a deep breath, then let me kiss him. His touch was far smoother, and his insecurity led him to be gentle, cautious. After a minute, though we’d hardly broken the surface, he pulled away.

    “Good?” I asked, eyebrow raised.

    Peter was transfixed. He managed a nod.

    “Remus, your turn.” James steered him over to me.

    I searched Remus’ gaze for a sign of his feelings, but scared could mean a number of things. I took his arms lightly, and he fidgeted a bit, either because of my cold fingers or the fact that I had just kissed him, and we were both blokes, not to mention best mates…

    Remus nodded slightly. “Go on, then.” His bare chest heaved, and a bead of sweat ran down his brow.

    I tilted my head and kissed him, incredibly restrained. He had to be eased into it, while James had only been able to go in for the kill. Ironic, considering I was the dog and James was the deer.

    I rested my hands on Remus’ chest, then worked them up to his shoulders, pulling him closer to me. And then tongue. I thought I had gone too far because Remus broke away, but he only did so to pull off my shirt.

    I stared at him in disbelief. He was into it. Into me. I kissed him again, harder, bare skin on bare skin. I could feel him through his trousers, he wanted me—

    “That was good!” James pulled me away by my waist. He rubbed his fingers back and forth across my skin—slightly, so only he and I knew. “Remus, what would you give it out of ten?”

    Had I made James jealous?

    James kept one hand on my back, but Peter and Remus couldn’t see him massage me. I stifled a moan, but allowed my eyes to close.

    “Seven,” Remus replied.

    My eyes flew open, and I saw Remus was staring at me again. “Seven? What the hell did I do wrong?” But it was hard to stay annoyed with James’ hand at my lower back, tracing the line of my trousers.

    “You were fine, it was me that was the problem. I still don’t feel like I’m good enough.”

    What was he playing at? I went along with it. “Yeah, I could tell you could use more practice.”

    James took his hand away. “Here, let me see.” He turned to Remus, who backed up in surprise, before James drew him in for a long kiss. After pulling away, James moved his mouth from side to side, as though judging a fine wine. “I think you know what you’re doing. And I know I was brilliant. How about you, Peter?”

    “I know what I’m doing, too,” Peter said quickly.

    “Let’s head back, then.”

    How could James be so casual? Didn’t he feel anything? Peter was emotionally shaken, it seemed, and I, and possibly Remus, had been aroused.

    “So, Sirius, I suppose you being gay is gonna stay between us?”

    I nodded quickly. “No one can know.” I stopped walking. “Look, mates, this doesn’t change anything, does it?”

    “Course not,” Peter replied. He was the only one to give a definitive answer. Still, he and Remus walked a bit more quickly than James and I, as though wanting to distance themselves.

    “I don’t fancy you, Sirius,” James whispered.

    “I don’t fancy you, either.”

    James stopped in his tracks and pushed me against the tunnel wall, kissing me. His tongue slid over mine, and his hands burrowed into my hair. As he broke away for air, he asked, “You sure?”

    My heart thudded. “No.” I cleared my throat. “I mean, yes, I’m sure I don’t.”

    James leaned back, satisfied. “Alright.” He gestured for me to follow him as we hurried to catch up with the others. “Because I’m straight. And besides, I’m going to marry Lily, hopefully before I’ve lost my good looks to age. So hell, if I can enjoy my time before she comes round, why not?”

    The following day went by like usual; but anyone paying close attention might’ve been able to sense the tension between us. Remus largely ignored me, but I couldn’t tell if he was upset or just uncomfortable.

    He didn’t say anything to me that night, or the day after. Whether consciously or not, we were never alone together. James was completely oblivious, too distracted by the comedy in Peter’s awkwardness around me to notice Remus’.

    There was bound to be a reason eventually that we would be alone together; on Thursday, James sent me and Remus to the library to check out books for research.

    Before we reached the library, Remus pulled me into the loo, made sure no one else was inside, then locked the door. “You made me think I couldn’t be attracted to boys. You said you weren’t attracted to boys. You’ve been lying this whole time.”

    “I did it to protect you. I didn’t want you all to be different around me. And you see how it’s like now, I mean, it’s not quite the way I worried it would be, but it’s still different.”

    “If you were so worried, why did you kiss me?”

    I was suddenly aware of how close we were to each other. There were so many possible answers that ran through my mind, but instead I asked, “Are you attracted to boys?”

    Remus crossed his arms. “You’re changing the subject.”

    “I can’t answer until you do. It’s a simple question.”

    Remus sighed. “I—I don’t know what’s normal, and what’s not. With you and James as apparent models of straightness, I couldn’t—I can’t tell.”

    “So if you were just answering the question, ‘Are you attracted to boys,’ you wouldn’t say yes.” Remus still looked conflicted, so I instead I asked, “Have you thought about kissing a boy?”

    Remus flushed. “Other than you?”

    “Yeah.”  _He’s thought about kissing me?_

    “I suppose I have…but I’ve thought about kissing girls, too. More about kissing girls than boys, probably. I just assumed—I assumed one came with the other. That all guys feel the same way, or similar, but just choose girls.”

    “What about having sex? Who—other than me—have you thought about?”

    Remus turned an even deeper shade of red. “I never said I thought about you like that.” Then he narrowed his eyes slightly, as if to ask,  _Have you thought about me like that?_ “You never answered my question from before. Why did you kiss me?”

I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

    “It’ll ruin it if we don’t talk about it.” He tried to keep eye contact with me, even as I turned my head. “Fine, fuck it, I’ll start. Do you remember, back in second year, when I had you put lotion on my back?”

    “Yeah, what about it?”

    “When I couldn’t get up after, it was because, well, because I was…excited, and I didn’t want you to see.”

    I blinked. My first instinct was to laugh, so I had to take a second before saying, “Really?”

    Remus hadn’t noticed, he wasn’t looking at me. “I didn’t know what to think, after, but when I fancied girls, I figured it was just being touched that had caused it.” He fumbled with what to say next, so I said,

    “I fancy you, Remus. I have for a long time, I just—I couldn’t admit it to myself.”

    “Oh.”

    “Why did you think I did it? Kissed you, I mean?”

    “Well, I…I didn’t consider it would mean more than…”

    “Being attracted to you?”

    Remus nodded. “I think I—I need some time to think. I can manage the library, by myself. I’ll—I’ll see you at dinner.”

    I waited until he had left the bathroom, then said to myself, “Fuck. Fuck, of course I had to fuck things up.” Why would I think Remus felt the same way? Had I even expected him to tell me he fancied me, or to kiss me, even?

    I splashed my face in the sink, then studied myself in the mirror. I had a sinking feeling we’d never be able to go back to how it had been before. I was already thinking about Remus differently—my stomach felt light just by imagining his reserved, calculated movements; his fond expression when he watched James and I plan; how somedays he touched me too much, other days as though he was deliberately holding back. And still, I couldn’t figure out if I thought of all those things because I wanted someone, or if I wanted Remus.


	3. Five Moments

**29 March, 1976 23:54**

It was the third night in a row that Remus lingered at the foot of my bed. Fed up, I whispered, “Get in.”

Remus started. “You saw—are you sure? What if someone sees?”

I sighed and rolled on my side to face him. “C’mon. Don’t be such a pussy.”

Remus glared at me. I thought he’d turn around, go back to his bed, but instead, he lifted up the duvet. He sidled in, then pulled the cover back up over him. He lay on his back at the extreme edge of the bed, wide eyes locked on the ceiling.

He looked afraid. If Remus was uncomfortable with this level of intimacy, was it because of me, or because I was a bloke?

We lay like this for a bit, him determined not to look at me, me willing him to show a sign that he wouldn’t rather be back in his own bed, alone. Growing restless, I turned onto my back, same as him. I closed my eyes and slowly inched my hand under the covers closer to him until I grazed his skin. Remus started, but didn’t move away. I entwined our fingers together, then rubbed my thumb along his. After a minute of this, he pulled away. I opened my eyes and turned—he was on his side, curled up, studying me.

I moved closer and said, voice low, “If you’re not interested, now would be a good time to tell me.”

Remus averted his eyes, giving an almost imperceptible nod. His hair had fallen over his eyes a bit, so I reached out from under the covers and brushed it out of his face.

Remus looked back at me, and as I continued to stroke his hair, I could see his features relax. “Do you really fancy me, Sirius?”

I studied him. His soft features were always thrown off—in a good way—by the harsh scars on his face. “It’s true, I would’ve kissed you just for your looks.”

Remus shifted away from my hand. “Sirius, you’ve got to be honest with me. Please.”

I lifted my head to check for any movement in James or Peter’s beds, then took out my wand and cast a Muffling Charm. “What would’ve been the point in telling you? You couldn’t—didn’t feel the same way.”

Remus searched me. “How long have you fancied me, exactly?”

I stopped stroking his hair and propped my head up with my hand. “That’s like asking how long I’ve known I was—I was…gay.”

“So a while, then.” Remus wasn’t looking away, now.

“And you—?”

“I’m not gay. I like girls.” He trembled a bit as he reached to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “But I—but I dunno, I think I also—”

Heart pounding, I leaned in and kissed him for the third time. After we broke apart, I asked, “You like blokes, too, then?”

Remus’ eyes were on my lips. Was he truly attracted to me, or just repressed, desperate for affection?

We kissed again, slowly. And again. I reached into Remus’ hair, and we pressed closer together.

After a minute, Remus broke away, teary-eyed.

I didn’t want to push him further, so I opened my arms. “C’mere.”

Without much hesitation, Remus wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my chest. I realized he would be able to hear my heart, which was beating rapidly. I took a deep breath to steady myself, then rested one hand on his back, the other in his hair.

“Look, Remus, If we do this, we’re gonna have to sneak around.”

I thought he was asleep, but he fidgeted a bit at the touch of my hand running through his hair.

“I know,” he said. “I know. Good night.”

I continued to stroke his hair, thinking. I couldn’t get my hopes up. James had seemed to want me, too, but in the end it was purely physical. I hadn’t thought I wanted Remus to mean something more, but now I wasn’t sure.

**18 April, 1976 3:08**

When I got back from the loo, the lights were on and everyone was on their respective beds.

James crossed his arms. “Can we talk?”

“Er...” I tried to make eye contact with Remus, but he kept his eyes locked on James. Peter, however, glanced between all of us, anxious. He could sense, like me, that James was about to boil over with anger.

“Moony was in your bed.”

I nodded slowly, stomach sinking, unsure of how he felt about it.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

I was frozen. James had reacted…unusually to my coming out, so I could only expect the unexpected.

James stood. “I waited for you to say something. It’s been weeks since I saw you the first time, and I thought you’d tell me, I thought you’d stop feeling like you needed to hide it. You tell me everything.”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry. Remus and I, we—”

“It’s not just physical,” Remus said suddenly.

James and I exchanged a look. “It’s…what is it, then?”

“I don’t know.” Remus didn’t have to look at me to know I didn’t know, either.

“Are you gay, Moony?”

“No, I’m attracted to boys and girls.”

James furrowed his brow. “You like both? I thought…are you sure? I mean, I just didn’t know you could—I thought you could only be attracted to one or the other.”

Remus shook his head, glancing behind him to see the crumpled clothing behind us.

James uncrossed his arms and said, “Do you fancy each other?” Before I could reply, James added, “I want you to be honest. If you do, I won’t be cross, or anything.”

I sat on my bed. “If I weren’t honest, I’d say this just started. That it’s just hormones, or since the kiss, Remus has been confused, and there was nothing between us before. But I am gonna be honest, and—well, I’ve fancied him probably since the first night here.”

“That long?” Remus and James said at the same time.

I nodded. “I didn’t know I fancied blokes right away, but I…I’ve never told any of you this, but I’ve had this feeling since I was eight or so. My mother had told me that shite about men and women your parents probably told you all, that anything else was against nature, except instead of accepting this, I—I had this sense she was talking about me. And that was when, I suppose, I started to disagree with my parents.”

Everyone was silent. I understood; it wasn’t often I talked about things that personal to me, especially when it meant admitting I’d hidden something from the others.

“What about you, Remus?” James asked, and we turned to him.

“I told Sirius this, but I thought it was normal, you know, that sometimes feeling the same way toward boys that I usually did toward girls was normal. You two always seemed much more gay than me, and if you were straight, well, then _I_ certainly had to be straight. As we got older, I could see the signs that I was wrong, but I chose to ignore them. Suppress them, even. There were moments with Sirius that nearly took those barriers down, but I learned to become numb to those, as well. In the Shrieking Shack, though, that was too unexpected to—to hide from myself. I knew what I felt, what I was.”

After a pause, Remus said, “And you, James?”

“Me?” James looked between us. “What makes you think I’m not straight?”

“You’re always touching us,” Peter said, then turned red.

“I’m always…? But that’s not—I don’t mean for it to be like that.” He inhaled slowly, then exhaled. “How do you two know for sure you’re not straight?”

“You just know,” I said.

“But more specifically.”

Remus fidgeted. “You’d only enjoy kissing the opposite sex. If someone of the same sex snogged you, you’d be repulsed, or feel nothing. And, to be honest, if you have to ask, it’s likely you’re not completely…heterosexual.”

I studied James. He told me he was straight, but what if—

“Can we test it?” James met my gaze.

Before I could reply, James had gotten up, crossed to me, and kissed me. Once I got over my embarrassment, I tried to be as intense as I could, as though this would be the kiss that would convince him.

James broke away. He kept his hands on my face for another moment, then said, “It was hot. But I don’t want to go farther.”

Remus’ expression was serious, but he hadn’t protested when James had kissed me. “You ever had a sexual dream involving someone of the same sex?”

James thought for a moment. “I think so, but I didn’t wake up aroused, if you know what I mean.”

Remus nodded and bit his lip. “And we know you’re attracted to girls, obviously. Are there any similarities between how you feel about girls and how you feel about boys?”

“I don’t really care about girls or boys in general. It’s mainly—it’s mainly Lily and Padfoot.”

Remus clenched his jaw. I wanted to tell him not to worry, but it wouldn’t have changed how James saw our relationship.

**4 June, 1976 13:54**

I glanced at Snivellus. He was bent over his paper as though he were courting it, so close he could’ve been in love. How was anyone supposed to concentrate on the test when Snivellus was so irritating?

“Five more minutes!”

I had already turned in my exam. My answers were, per usual, short and sweet; there was no other way to write. I leaned back in my chair, watching as James turned in his paper, then gave him a thumbs-up. Remus, who I could see out of the corner of my eye, reread his answers, then scratched his chin with the end of his quill, frowning slightly.

“Quills down, please!” squeaked Professor Flitwick. “That means you, too, Stebbins! Please remain seated while I collect your parchment! _Accio!”_

Over a hundred rolls of parchment zoomed into the air and into Professor Flitwick’s outstretched arms, knocking him backwards off his feet. Several people laughed. A couple of students at the front desks got up, took hold of Professor Flitwick beneath the elbows and lifted him back on to his feet.

We joined James before leaving class.

“Fucking hell, I’m glad it’s all over.” James stretched until his back cracked.

“Did you like question ten, Moony?” I asked as we emerged into the Entrance Hall.

Remus’ mouth twitched. “Loved it. ‘Give five signs that identify the werewolf.’ Excellent question.”

“D’you think you managed to get all the signs?” James was the picture of concern.

“Think I did,” Remus said as we joined the crowd thronging around the front doors, eager to get out into the sunlit grounds. “One: he’s sitting on my chair. Two: he’s wearing my clothes. Three: his name’s Remus Lupin.”

Peter was the only one who didn’t laugh. “I got the snout shape, the pupils of the eyes and the tufted tail, but I couldn’t think what else—”

James sighed. “How thick are you, Wormtail? You run round with a werewolf once a month—”

I elbowed James as Remus told him to keep his voice down.

We set off toward the lake with most of the other fifth years. I blinked in the sunlight, then said, “Well, I thought that paper was a piece of cake. I’ll be surprised if I don’t get ‘Outstanding’ on it at least.”

“Me too,” said James. He put his hand in his pocket and took out a Golden Snitch.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you get that?”

James, who had forged ahead, glanced back. “Nicked it.” He released the Snitch, allowed it to fly as much as a foot away before he seized it again. Peter watched him in awe.

We stopped in the shade and threw ourselves down on the grass. The sunlight was dazzling on the smooth surface of the lake.

Remus, I realized, had already began to read his book. I frowned, annoyed and bored. Was Remus avoiding me? Did he not want it to be obvious we were a thing? I stared around at the students milling over the grass. James continued to play with the Snitch, letting it zoom further and further away. Peter watched him with his mouth open, and every time James made a particularly difficult catch, Peter gasped and applauded.

After several minutes of this, I finally said, “Put that away, will you, before Wormtail wets himself with excitement.”

Peter turned slightly pink, but James grinned.

“If it bothers you,” he said, stuffing the Snitch back in his pocket.

“I’m bored.” I glanced at Remus. “Wish it was full moon.”

“You might,” said Remus from behind his book. I realized it sounded like I wanted to see him naked, but before I could clarify, Remus said, “We’ve still got Transfiguration, if you’re bored you could test me. Here…” He held out his book.

I snorted, glad he let it go. “I don’t need to look at that rubbish, I know it all.”

“This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,” said James quietly. “Look who it is…”

I turned, then became very still. “Excellent. Snivellus.”

Snivellus stuffed some papers in his bag. As soon as he left the shadows of the bushes and set off across the grass, James and I stood.

Remus and Peter stayed behind. I didn’t care; James and I were enough.

“All right, Snivellus?” said James loudly.

Snivellus dropped his bag and reached for his wand, but before he turned around, James disarmed him. _“Expelliarmus!”_

Snape’s wand flew twelve feet into the air and fell with a little thud in the grass behind him.

I laughed. _“Impedimenta!”_ I knocked Snape off his feet before he could dive for his wand. I glanced around, assessing our audience, which was growing.

Snivellus lay on the ground, panting. We advanced on him, wands raised. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Peter and Remus had joined the crowd.

“How’d the exam go, Snivelly?” said James.

“I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment,” I said, smirking. “There’ll be great grease marks all over it, they won’t be able to read a word.”

Laughter.

Snape struggled to get up. “You—wait,” he panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing, “You—wait!”

“Wait for what? What’re you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?”

Snape let out a stream of mixed swear words and hexes, but with his wand ten feet away, nothing happened.

James didn’t glance at me. We were a dual force, separate, but the same. “Wash out your mouth. _Scourgify!”_

Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape’s mouth at once; the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him—

“Leave him ALONE!” came Lily’s voice from behind us.

James and I looked round. 

James’s free hand immediately jumped to his hair. “All right, Evans?” said James, the tone of his voice different, somehow.

“Leave him alone,” Lily repeated. She glared at James. “What’s he done to you?”

“Well, it’s more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean…”

The crowd laughed along with us, but Lily didn’t so much as smile. “You think you’re funny. But you’re just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him alone.”

“I will if you go out with me, Evans,” said James quickly.

_For Christ’s sake._ I glanced sideways at Lily.

“Go on…go out with me and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.”

“I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily. The people in the crowd oohed and laughed.

“Bad luck, Prongs.” I sensed movement behind us and turned back to Snape. “Oy!”

But it was too late; Snape had directed his wand straight at James. There was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James’s face, spattering his robes with blood.

James whirled about. A second flash of light later, Snape was hanging upside-down in the air. His white legs dangled in the air, revealing his dirty pants, which were too small—the outline of his crotch was visible.

Amidst the cheers, we roared with laughter.

After a moment’s hesitation, Lily’s voice cut through the celebration. “Let him down!”

“Certainly,” said James and he jerked his wand upwards; Snape fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. Disentangling himself from his robes he got quickly to his feet, wand up.

Before he could do anything, I said, “ _Locomotor mortis!”_ and Snape keeled over again at once, rigid as a board.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. James and I eyed it warily.

James tried more charm. “Ah, Evans, don’t make me hex you.”

“Take the curse off him, then!”

James sighed, then turned to Snivellus and muttered the counter-curse.

“There you go,” he said, as Snape struggled to his feet. “You’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus—”

“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!”

I looked instinctually at James. He only seemed angry, he didn’t share my twisted sense of glee that Snape had fucked up.

“Fine,” Lily said. “I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.”

“Apologize to Evans!” James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him.

“I don’t want you to make him apologize,” Lily shouted, rounding on James. “You’re as bad as he is.”

“What? I’d never call you a—you-know-what!”

“Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can—I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me sick.” She turned on her heel and hurried away.

“Evans!” James shouted after her. “Hey, EVANS!”

But she didn’t look back.

“What is it with her?” said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him.

“Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,” I said.

“Right,” said James, who looked furious now, “right—” There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside-down in the air. James surveyed his audience, who had broken out into murmurs. “Who wants to see me take off Snivelly’s pants?”

Cries of encouragement. If Snivellus hadn’t deserved the humiliation before, he certainly deserved it now.

James, eyes wild, brandished his wand again, and off went Snivelly’s pants.

The few girls in the audience squealed and shrieked, but they still stared. The boys’ eyes were also glued, and they jeered with comments on his size, laughing as he struggled—

Snape fell to the ground, and before James could strike again, Remus stepped in front of him. His wand was out—so he had been the one to free Snape.

“C’mon, Moony, it was just a bit of fun.”

“You could get in trouble. More trouble, I mean. And as a prefect, I have to draw the line somewhere.”

James seemed blinded, forgetting it was Remus he was talking to. “Lighten the bloody hell up. Snivellus deserves it, and we don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

Remus flinched, and glanced at me.

I avoided his gaze to see Snape, now fully clothed, run away, with a couple rowdy members of the crowd in pursuit.

_What did Remus expect me to say? Why did he always have to make us feel guilty?_

**1 July, 1976 22:19**

****I leaned against the brick wall of the building and waited. Two blokes, clearly pissed, walked by, giggling.

I was about to give up and return home when a man stopped a couple meters away from me. He glanced in my direction, then brushed past as he went farther down the alley, where the light couldn’t reach.

I followed him, feeling a hot sort of rush at the spontaneity of it all. He was taller than me, fit, but I hadn’t seen his face.

He turned around and pushed me against the wall.

I laughed a little in response. “Like it rough, do we?”

He leaned in as though to kiss me, but instead clocked me in the jaw.

Stunned, I fell onto the cement. Before I could get to my feet, he kicked me in the side.

Winded, I was unable to shout, or even curse at him. If I used magic, the Ministry would know, but then at least I’d be safe. Any other course of action was deafened by the sharp shocks of pain as the Muggle proceeded to kick me in the side, the stomach, the face.

“Hey, fucker!” A distant voice called, and the man stopped. Multiple pairs of feet scuffled, and he was pulled off me.

“Go inside and call the police,” someone said nearby. “Hey, you alright? You bleeding?”

I could only groan in response.

“Fuck, this is getting out of control…” She rested a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, you got anyone we can call?”

They were Muggles, probably. “No.” I coughed—blood came up, no doubt—then sat up. I remembered the mirror. Thank god. “I have—I have a friend close by.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“The police’ll want a report. If you can stay until then—”

“Yeah, sure.”

The bloke she’d been with returned, incensed. “I’ve had it to here with these knobs, callin’ us names, luring young blokes who don’t know better where they won’t be found…and the police, they act like they give a shit, but they’d rather pretend we’re not here.” He paused long enough to remember me. “Sorry, what’s your name?”

I finally could get to my feet. “Sirius. Shouldn’t give you my last name, no one knows about me, and it’s easier to keep it that way.”

“Sirius, we’ll stay with you until your friend gets here. If the police get here before, it would help for you to talk to them. They’re mostly dickheads, but we’re even more invisible if we don’t go for them for help.”

“I understand if you don’t want to. They’re fuckers.”

I nodded, and, sensing there was no excuse that would get them to leave me alone, said, “Can you help me over to the payphone?”

They helped me up and half guided, half carried me over to the payphone. Once they were a distance away, I pretended to know what I was doing, picking up the phone and holding it to my ear, no doubt incorrectly. I turned my back to them and pulled out the two-way mirror. “Prongs!” I waited, peering into the glass. “James!”

His face appeared in the glass, first smiling, then concerned as he studied me. “What happened to you?”

“Long story, but I need you and your father to pick me up. I’ll give you my address.” I looked over at the street sign. “I’m at Compton and Fifth. The cops are about to show up, so as fast as you can get here…”

“We’ll be there soon.” And he was gone.

I pocketed the mirror and hung up the phone. The woman came over first. “They coming?”

“Yeah. They live close by, it’ll only be a minute or two.”

Ninety seconds later, James and his father appeared around the corner. They helped me up, thanked the two people who had rescued me, then hurried to a spot secluded enough to Apparate.

Back at the Potter estate, the Potters healed me within minutes.

“We’ve plenty of practice with this sort of thing. James has a tendency to fall off his broom.”

James had just sat down next to me. “Mum, not anymore! Sirius, I swear, I haven’t for at least a year, and that was because I was practicing this dive—”

“Sirius, if you don’t mind; what were you doing in Soho?”

I replied to Mr. Potter but looked at James. “I…needed to get out of the house. I didn’t know where to go specifically, so I wandered around London.”

They believed me. “We’re just glad you weren’t more seriously injured.” Then they left to prepare tea.

Once I was sure his parents were out of earshot, I told James, “I wasn’t running away. There are a lot of gay clubs in Soho. I went there to hook up.”

“With a stranger?”

I nodded. “Anyone. This bloke, though—he was pretending to be gay. He was looking for a target.”

James stared at me, shocked. Then the events seemed to finally process. “Do you like being gay?”

I blinked. “Do you like being straight?”

“I mean—you have to go through a lot of shite for being gay. But I think the world would be a lot better, at least more fun, if everyone was bi. If everyone could be sexually attracted to anyone.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Do you think if everyone were bisexual, more people would choose their same sex, or opposite?”

“I might be biased to say same.”

“Yeah, me too.”James rested his hand on my shoulder, gaze distant, then we stood. “Well, do you have to get back home, or do you want to stay?”

I yawned, glancing up as Mrs. Potter entered the room with the tea. “Of course I’d like to stay, but my parents’ll use any excuse to ground me, and I’d rather it be one week rather than the rest of the summer.”

Mrs. Potter hugged me. “You know can come by whenever you like. Don’t feel you have to stay if they mistreat you, okay?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Potter.”

“Of course. Now, after you have your tea, I’ll Apparate you home—do you want me to say James had a family emergency?”

“I’ll be alright.” As much as I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of punishing me, I wanted to prove a point. What that point was, I wasn’t sure.

**8 July, 1976 9:02**

“Sirius, can we speak with you in the dining room?”

I closed the book James had sent me, _The Art of Hilarity: The 100 Funniest Charms, Potions, and Hexes from 1886 to 1972_ , and trudged out of my room. “What? I was in the middle of—”

My parents were sitting together on the couch, looking grim, matter-of-fact, and gestured for me to sit across from them. “We need to talk about your responsibilities in this family.”

“We need to?” I sat on the armrest of the chair across from them.

“Sirius,” my dad warned, then paused to collect himself. “You remember the Faralyns, don’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“Their daughter, Raven, has followed the Dark Lord despite being sorted into Hufflepuff house. Saved her family from a great deal of embarrassment.”

I picked at my fingernails, staring into my lap.

“There is still time for you to turn your life around. Your sorting does not have to dictate your place at school or in the wizarding world…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Which is why this new school year, you’re going to either spend time with Regulus and his friends in Slytherin, or we’re sending you to Durmstrang.”

My stomach dropped. “Neither. No, fuck that.”

My mothers’ eyes blazed. “Sirius!”

“You’ve got to pissed out of your heads right now!” I stood up, my father did the same. “Did you expect I’d agree?”

“Well, we wanted to give you the choice. So now, it’s settled…”

Regulus passed by us on his way to the kitchen, casual and arrogant.

I glared at him. “I would rather die than be like any of you.” I paused, making up my mind. “You’re horrible people, awful—siding with that murderer, thinking Muggles and Mudbloods are animals—I’m tired of hearing you shit-talk people when you’re full of shit yourselves. So I’m out.” I stormed to my room, ears ringing, face hot. I surveyed my room, then began to throw my things into my suitcase.

Regulus appeared in my doorway. “You’re leaving, then?”

“Why the fuck do you care?”

Regulus didn’t reply. “Where’re you going?”

“The Potters.” I forced the lid to my suitcase down and started a second one. “They’ve been more of a family than any of you have.”

“Bye, then,” Regulus snapped, then lingered a bit before leaving my room and slamming the door behind him.

I was too caught up in the adrenaline rushing through me to consider if Regulus actually cared.

I found my two-way mirror and looked into it for a minute. James didn’t show, so I folded it in one of my shirts and closed the suitcase. I grabbed my owl Fugly’s cage and the two suitcases, tucked my wand into my pocket, and headed out of my room.

“You can throw out anything of mine you like,” I told my parents.

“You smug little bastard—” my father began.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, dad.” I passed my mother without saying a word, knowing that would cut deeper than anything I could say, then opened the door. “If I see any of you again, it’ll be at your funeral.” Before I closed the door behind me, I added, “And I’ll be laughing.”

The light outside was just disappearing behind the city buildings. I hurried down the stone steps and held out my wand, then sat down on the curb to wait. A few minutes later, the Knight Bus appeared, doors already open.

“Come on, come on!” the conductor yelled at me, then summoned my things onto the bus. Just after I hopped inside, the doors snapped behind me, and we were off.

“Where’re you off to?”

“The Potter house. St. Albans.”

The bloke didn’t look at me as he motioned a device in front of me. “Dark object detector. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“S’alright. Have I got to pay now, or…?”

The conductor looked up for the first time, gaze softening a little as he studied me. “You can pay now. Four sickles.”

I searched my jacket and reached out to hand him the money. My fingers brushed his as I dropped the change into his palm.

He pocketed the coin, smirking a bit. “I’m Dius Souri.”

I considered telling him my name, then said, “Sirius. Best if I didn’t give you my last name.”

“On the run from the law, then, Sirius?”

“Not yet, but I’ve got time.”

Dius laughed, then had to break eye contact as some of the passengers shuffled out. Once the doors closed again, he said, “Hang on, we’re about to get on the country roads.”

Before I could find support, the bus lurched and I fell forward onto Dius.

He helped me regain my balance, laughing. We met each others eyes. After a moment, he said, “You know my name now. If you ever want to send me a letter…”

I grinned, then recovered and said, “Actually, I have a boyf—I’m with someone.”

Dius raised an eyebrow. “Uh huh. And what’s the lucky lad’s name?”

“Can’t tell you. Maybe I would, but no one knows—neither of are…”

Dius seemed about to ask what I meant when the bus stopped abruptly. He blinked and realized where we were. “This is your stop. Have a nice day, love. Say hello to the mystery boy for me.”

“Pick up the bloody pace, Dius!” the driver called.

“Thank you, I will.” I grabbed my things and got off the bus. By the time I turned around, it was already out of sight.

The Potter house (or mansion, rather) brought a rush of familiar excitement through me. Now I felt like I was home.

I spotted James in the distance and understood why he hadn’t seen me in the mirror; he was flying around on his broom in the field beyond his house. Before I had walked the length of their driveway, he also spotted me and flew in my direction. Once he recognized me, he waved madly.

I set Fugly and my suitcases down and copied him, jumping up and down.

James landed, threw his broom to the side, and sprinted to me. “What the hell are doing here?” He hugged me, smelling of sweat and sun.

“I ran away.”

“What? For good, or?”

“I dunno. I think so.” I was a bit out of breath. “Can I stay with you? I know it’s sudden, and a lot to ask of your parents, but you all have always been so good to me—like a second family…”

“Hm…you’ll do all my chores?”

I blinked. “What chores?”

James grinned. “You’re right. House-elves.” He kissed my cheek, then helped carry my things. “C’mon, let’s see what my parents say. I know they won’t send you back to that hell hole. You know that old witches’ saying…blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb.”

“I don’t, actually. My parents have always told me the ancient proverb, ‘If you don’t kill people for your dark overlord we’ll disown you.’” As James led me inside, I added, “I’m glad I could leave them before they kicked me out.”


	4. Independence and a Sexy Party

**11 July, 1976 20:31**

“Congrats to Sirius for getting out of a shit family. And for not being like them. Cheers, mates.” We clinked our bottles together, then drank.

Remus coughed. “This tastes awful.”

“What, you’ve never had beer before?”

Remus shook his head. “I don’t like feeling like I don’t have control, I suppose.”

James and I glanced at each other, then he said, “You don’t have to drink, if you don’t want to.”

Remus shook his head. “S’alright. I need to loosen up.” He ran a hand through his hair.

I could feel James’ eyes on mine, watching to see the effect Remus’ motion had on me. I broke my gaze. “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

“What is it?” James took another swig of beer.

“Kreacher caught on that I wasn’t interested in girls, and started to call me queer, faggot, poofer, whatever, when my mother wasn’t around.”

“Are you fucking with me? What a prick—”

“So I had to convince him. I magically cemented pictures of girls on the walls. I pretended to masturbate to one of them when I knew he’d walk in on me to do the cleaning.”

Remus snorted. “Ingenious. That’s awful, though, Sirius.”

James scratched his chin. “Do you suppose there are any gay house-elves?”

I smirked and shook my head. “I don’t know about house-elves, but I have to assume there are gay centaurs.”

James laughed and took out another beer. “Are you into that sort of thing?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t fuck a centaur?”

“I’m sure I’d be the one getting fucked.”

Remus choked on his beer, and we all laughed.

After an hour and five beers apiece had gone by, I felt light, happier than I’d felt in ages. I knew the others felt the same; we all couldn’t help smiling.

“I want to watch you snog.” James set his drink down and leaned back on the sofa.

With a glance at James, I turned my attention to Remus, then pulled him onto the bed. I sat crosslegged, holding his hands. I couldn’t see him clearly, but desire blazed in my mind. We kissed, breath hot, our mouths tinged with alcohol.

“Take off his shirt.”

Neither of us knew who James was addressing, so there was a moment where we both fumbled for each other’s shirts.

“Let me do it,” Remus murmured, and while his hands weren’t precise, there was a sexiness in his dismissal of perfection.

James stopped us just as Remus’ fingers hooked onto the line of my pants. Maybe if I’d been sober, I would’ve minded, but I was too tired to object properly.

James and Remus had a much harder time handling their alcohol and fell asleep soon after lying down. James curled up beside me, almost touching. Remus was pressed up against me, his arm on my chest.

I studied James, then ran a hand through his hair. I had trouble placing the difference between how he felt about me and how Remus felt. James looked at me as if—as if he could see all of me, and he knew I could see all of him. We were so one, so in the _moment_ when we were together. With Remus…he looked at me as if he saw a different side, one he thought was in me but wasn’t really there. He didn’t look at me in the moment, he looked at my past, my future. I couldn’t place the exact expression, I could only tell for sure it was different. 

When we pranked someone, James saw me having fun, laughing; he saw me as clever, as funny…Remus saw those things, but he also saw my insecurity, self-doubt, guilt. I assumed those feelings where there, somewhere. With Remus, I felt as though I was giving in to a side of me only he knew; with James, I felt as though I could be the side of me I knew. I couldn’t tell which was better, and decided I’d rather have both than one or the other…

**12 July, 1976 20:22**

“Sirius?” James was still tipsy, and couldn’t tell that he was being louder than he needed to be.

I stirred. “Mm?”

“I love you.” His arms tightened around me.

“Love me, as in…?”

“I dunno. As a friend.”

“Then how come you act like its more than that?” I turned to face him.

James stared at me. “I don’t know. I feel the—I feel everything, everything I’ve ever felt for someone—except the desire to fuck you.”

“What’s everything?”

“I don’t know. But even when I overwhelmingly want to be with Lily, I can’t imagine you not there with me.” He turned onto his back. “And…I like it when people think we’re fucking, even if we’re not, because this connection between us is…it’s unlike anything anyone else has felt before.”

I studied him. “It’s not because you want me for yourself?”

James paused, a little hurt. It was obvious he’d never thought of it before. “If that was why, then I would care that you and Remus do it.”

“But we don’t just ‘do it.’ It’s more than that. And that doesn’t bother you?”

James fidgeted, trying to hide his annoyance. “I know you two are really close. But that’s because he can be with you in a way that I can’t.”

I remained silent because I didn’t know whether or not it was true, and I was too tired to argue otherwise.

James yawned, bored of being frustrated. “What are we gonna do after Hogwarts?”

“Well, you’ll marry Lily…”

James smirked. “Right, that was implied. You and I, though.”

“I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

We laughed. James had drank more than I had, so it took longer for him to calm down. When he did, he said, “You could be our dog.”

“Man’s best friend…that makes sense.”

“I don’t even know if anyone will be able to settle anywhere, with the war and all.”

“Doubt it.”

“Suppose we gotta enjoy the here and now, right?” James yawned again.

I nodded.

James smiled and kissed me quickly on the lips. “Goodnight.” He switched off the light beside the bed, then pulled the covers up. He liked to sleep facing me, our foreheads almost touching. Probably because he was drunk, he fell asleep quickly.

**25 August, 1976 21:34**

The hot water and steam engulfed me. I rested by hand on one end of the shower, closed my eyes, and reached down.

“Padfoot, how long are you gonna be in there?” James opened the bathroom door.

I flinched, pulling my fingers away immediately. “Er, give me five minutes.”

James’ form was blurred through the shower curtain. “I’m bored. Can I stay in here?”

“Sure.” The surprise had made me break out into a sweat, so I turned the water temperature down a bit.

A month ago, I had begun to help James practice sex. He acquired potions and digestible tablets that allowed me to turn into a girl. At first we didn’t do anything serious, he just would lie next to me, touch my breasts, but by the end of the summer we had gone nearly all the way, as it were. I was never in my body, so James could separate what he did from being with me. I, however, had a hard time distinguishing James’ desire for the real me versus the me with tits and a fanny.

“I know you jack off in the shower, Padfoot. You used to do it in bed, but since now you sleep with Remus…”

I swallowed. “Okay.”

“What do you think about? You know, when you do it?” James’ voice sounded close, too close, as though he were speaking from inside the shower.

“I…I think about Remus, or you.”

“You think about me?”

I didn’t know why, but I leaned forward, closed my eyes, and began to touch myself again. “Yeah.”

“What about me, then?” James had lowered his voice, but the breathy quality made him sound even closer.

“I dunno. The typical things. What you’d expect.” I knew he could hear the sounds of my hand above the rush of the water.

“What are you thinking about now?”

“I’m thinking about—I’m thinking about you. About waking up next to you, and you, you—” I had it in my head, but I couldn’t speak and touch myself at the same time.

“I’m not making you nervous, am I?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Why don’t I tell you what to think about, then?”

“Okay.”

“Alright. You’re in the shower. The water rushes over your body, every inch of you—Merlin, I want to join you. You’re touching yourself. I’m sitting on the toilet. I’m just a meter away. You can’t see what I’m doing. The water’s too loud, you can’t hear me taking off my trousers. I pull back the curtain, and you’re surprised; you didn’t think I’d actually do it, join you in the shower, I mean. I stand behind you—I push myself against you—and take your cock, and start moving my hand up and down.”

“Hah…” I gasped, no longer able to stay silent.

“You’re so warm, so big, and though at first I didn’t feel anything, I’m turned on. I didn’t think you could turn me on, but you did.”

“Shit, Prongs—”

“I want to take you, then. I grab your hips, I kiss your neck, I start to move against you, back and forth—”

“Ah! Ah…” I opened my eyes and let the water wash over me, taking my come down with it. Heart in my throat, I pulled back the shower curtain.

James immediately handed me a towel. “I was pretty good at that, wasn’t I?”

I nodded, turning slightly away as I dried myself. The heat of the moment was over, and now I was left to resent that James hadn’t done what he described. He acted as though it was within his power, but it wasn’t, it couldn’t be when he’d had the perfect opportunity to prove it.

 

**24 March, 1977 19:53**

“Let’s host a Sexy Party.”

“A what?”

“We’d invite everyone in their fifth year or older, unless they’re in Slytherin…that’s ninety people, give or take ten that don’t go…eighty should be enough.”

“Where’s the sexy bit come in?”

James waved his hands around as the ideas developed. “Everyone wears their best lingerie—because there will be stripping involved. And we can have games to give me an excuse to snog Lily, you the chance to find any other gay blokes…”

“I think I would’ve discovered them by now.”

“Oh, so you think you’re the only one at Hogwarts who can be conspicuous?”

“Of course I’d like to think everyone’s hiding their sexuality, particularly Snivellus, that’d be a treat, but—”

“Well, forget that part, then. It’ll be fun regardless.” James put his arm around me. “I’ve some games we can play. Let’s see…Spinning Cork, Strip Exploding Snap, Hungarian Horntail, Truth or Dare—that’s a Muggle game…”

We continued to plan until nine that night, and exactly a week later, we were greeting the last of the guests at the Portrait Hole. 

“How many people have played Spinning Cork?” James surveyed the crowd; most people raised their hand, probably to fit in. “Who are virgins? Ha! Got you.”

I loved seeing him like this; alive, eyes bright, smile constant and infectious.

“Anyway, it works like this—” James pulled out his wand, then pulled the cork from his butterbeer. He murmured an incantation, then took his hand away, letting it float by itself. “Wait, let’s try to get more in a circle…Okay, so to start, one person touches their wand to the cork, it spins, and whoever the little light beam points at—it’ll come out the top, here—is the person they have to kiss on the lips. It doesn’t matter if you’re two blokes, two girls, whatever. And the twist is, if you kiss better than the last two, then you get to choose the next two lovers…”

James had made sure I’d be a ways down the circle so people would get used to the game before I was called on. He had told me even if I had to fuck someone’s face in front of the entire group, I had to be able to make him and Lily kiss.

“…Otherwise, the next person in the circle goes. Alright, who’s never kissed anyone? No one will fess up? Alright, why don’t I start, then. No, I didn’t mean I haven’t kissed anyone. Oh, and before I forget—there’s a raffle after all the games. So anyone who doesn’t play along is taken out.”

Some people left the group, giggling if they were single and nervous, brooding if they had to leave because they were in a relationship. I glanced at the glass case that held their names to make sure the spells were working, and sure enough, about twenty names vanished.

“Summon whiskey or mints if you need them,” James said, pointing at the food table.

Lily and her friends remained in the game. But would she stay if she had to kiss James? I forgot that I was staring at her, and she noticed. She glared at me, maybe guessing what we were trying to do.

Grinning, James tapped the cork with his wand. As it spun, everyone seemed to apprehend it landing on themselves.

The beam of light pointing from one end of the cork stopped on a fifth year Ravenclaw. She turned bright red, but otherwise gave no signs of nervousness as they met in the middle. James kissed her for a couple seconds amid whoops and cheers.

After wiggling his eyebrows at Lily, he let the next person in line go up to spin the cork. After a few rounds, I grew disinterested, as most people were too tentative to outdo the previous couple. The bloke before me, however, had landed on the girl he fancied, and they went at it for at least twenty seconds. They yielded to me without choosing anyone—wise choice on their part, because everyone wanted to see me stick my tongue down someone’s throat for longer than they had.

I went to the center of the room and tapped the cork. “Will you all tell me when I’ve outdone Edwin?” Cheers in response. I wondered for a moment how the crowd would react if it landed on one of the other Marauders.

The beam of slight slowed to a stop ten people down from Remus.

It was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Leo Kenilworth. He was hard to read, as the crowd’s reaction overwhelmed his own; the girls were nearly screaming as he crossed the room. So far the same-sex kisses had been mere pecks on the lips.

I looked up at him. “Okay, James needs us to snog for longer than Edwin and Winnie so I can choose him and Lily to kiss.”

Edwin nodded, and I realized now that he seemed a bit ill.

“Just pretend I’m a girl, and make the best of it,” I said, then put my arms around his neck and kissed him. As the room erupted into a roar, we both couldn’t help smiling mid-kiss. Just as I started to use tongue, James shouted, “Alright, you did it!”

Edwin broke away, staring at me, taken aback. A question formed in his expression, as though he’d ask—

I rolled my eyes. “Fuck you, I’m not a fag, Edwin.” Then louder, I said, “I nominate James Potter and Lily Evans!”

If there was a roar before, it was nothing compared to the crowd’s reaction in that moment. Everyone pushed the two out to the middle.

I watched James, trying to seem as enthusiastic as everyone else. In actuality, I thought it was thick of James to think he could make her fall in love with him with one kiss, let alone in a game of Spinning Cork.

Before James could lean in, Lily pulled him in herself, kissing him deep on the mouth. I felt my stomach drop.

Lily pulled away and took a step back, watching James lick his lips, confused but beaming. Lily wiped her mouth on her sleeve, and once she pulled away, she smirked, staring at his crotch.

James looked down at the full chub in his trousers. 

Lily pointed to her lips. “24-hour erection balm. Feel free to try, but you can’t toss it away.”

James stared at Lily, mouth ajar, as the cheers turned to laughter. I looked across the room at Remus, who, like me, was too shocked to fully laugh.

Lily rejoined her friends, high-fiving and laughing until—

“Evans!” James looked her in the eye, giddiness hiding underneath his calm exterior. “You say we aren’t meant for each other, but very few people have managed to prank me as well as you just did.”

Lily’s smile fell. “I saw it more as revenge, Potter.” She glanced down at his dick and couldn’t say more, too broken up with laughter to continue.

James’ mood didn’t falter; he gave me a thumbs-up before returning to the circle.

A couple rounds later, the cork landed on Peter, and he got his first kiss with a girl. We rushed the middle of the circle after he was finished, clapping him on the back, thoroughly embarrassing him—but we knew he liked the attention.

It was Peter’s turn after another ten minutes, this time with another slightly awkward bloke. They barely touched their lips together—just enough that it counted.

The rest of the time I spent waiting for Remus to be up. I didn’t want it to land on me, because I would have to pretend I didn’t want to. Or should I embrace it to be funny? As I puzzled over it, I missed being chosen.

“Go on, Sirius,” someone next to me said, almost completely drowned out by excited whoops from the crowd.

“C’mon, Sirius!” James beckoned me to the center of the room. “Alyssa, you’re a perv, you know that? We’re just two best mates—with two very large cocks, for anyone wondering—who spend all waking hours with each other. There’s nothing sexual between us, even though I masturbate thinking of him, and have been bent over who knows how many tables with him pounding me into oblivion…It’s all in the name of brotherhood.”

I shook my head, smirking. Of course he’d handle it like this.

“Okay, here goes…” James took my hands and leaned in. He kissed me without tongue, but exaggerated the sound to make it seem more real.

That was enough for the crowd; they completely lost it.

James held up my hand, then we bowed. Somehow, he could act ridiculously gay and ridiculously straight at the same time. Everyone questioned his sexuality because it was fun, and because he wanted them to, and they never actually doubted he was straight.

I returned to my spot, disappointed yet relieved. I could feel at least a dozen pairs of eyes on me, hungry or jealous. Ganymede had been one of the people to leave the circle before we started, but I knew he was watching me, too.

Remus was next. His eyes kept flickering to me as he approached the cork. Although he was mostly popular by association, I noticed more girls in the room seemed to want it to land on them than they’d wanted with me or James. 

The cork pointed at the girl that had been sitting next to him. She went to the center, excited, and immediately started tongue-fucking his face.

After a painful twenty seconds, the two broke apart. Remus looked taken off guard, but I didn’t see any disgust in his features.

The final eight people went, challenging a few pairs of people I didn’t care about along the way, then we were finally finished.

James stood on the chair near the far wall of the room. I had noticed during Spinning Cork as he tucked up his hard-on; now no one could tell.

“Great job everyone, especially Lydia and Phoebe. I hope someone was taking pictures.” After pausing to let people laugh, he continued, “Now it’s time to clean up for the orgy.” 

Some people glanced at each other, a bit panicked.

After a few moments of serious silence, James finally cracked and laughed. “I’m just kidding, we’re not that mad; we would’ve told you ahead of time. Anyhow, the next game might seem less mad now. Hungarian Horntail, anyone heard of it? I’d be surprised; it’s new, invented in Beauxbatons a couple years ago. We’ll have Strip Exploding Snap set up to kill time while it’s going on, ‘cause it’s longer, and more fun if you’re participating.”

James gestured at the utility closet in the back of the room. We had replaced the door with a curtain and hung some lights around to set the mood. “That is where the action will be. For each round, Peter will draw two names from the raffle, and send the two lucky lovebirds to the closet to get it on for five minutes. The idea is to make out the entire time. But, if you don’t, no one would know, right?”

Grinning, James held up two tiny buttons. “Put on these before you go in. Their color will tell us how it went. Cool colors mean very little action, so try to get it to red. If you manage red, we’ll put your name in the raffle again. We’ll send twelve pairs in. That’s sixty minutes of unadulterated fun.” James summoned some packs of cards and tossed them to people in different parts of the room. “Now, strip Exploding Snap. It’s simple: after each round, losers remove one article of clothing. Gentlemen, you can keep one piece on, ladies, two; because, like I said, we didn’t plan ahead for an orgy. If you end up stripped down to your limit, create a rule for your group of something embarrassing to do instead. We’ll see who lasts the longest.”

James hopped down and gave Peter the pins, then joined me and Remus in organizing groups.

“Sirius! Can you help over here?” James waved me over to the other side of the room. “Are you wearing your watch? Alright, here’s mine. After five minutes, open the curtains, then use the spell I taught you to double their entry, if they win.” James winked. “I’m gonna walk around.”

I nodded, then realized what he’d done. By the curtain was the only group of all blokes. I turned to protest, but James had already gone.

After three rounds, I heard Peter announce: “Remus Lupin and Raven Faralyn.”

Remus looked around, flustered. If we didn’t have history with Faralyn, maybe it would’ve been fine, but she used to side with the Slytherins (despite being Hufflepuff) before supposedly turning away. She’d probably hurt him in combat, and vice versa.

Faralyn found him in the crowd. She was shirtless and sockless, and looked much more nervous than he did. They put on the pins, then crossed to the closet. Before following her inside, Remus shrugged a little at me.

I frowned, confused. What did that look mean? As I tried to figure it out, I realized I could see behind the curtain from the angle I stood. I averted my eyes, knowing I shouldn’t look, but still… _“Speculatore oculus,”_ I said under my breath. Now, it would look to everyone else that I was peering around the common room rather than spying on Remus.

Remus’ hand touched Faralyn’s cheek as he kissed her. She was tilted back in surprise and had placed a hand on his chest, as though she’d intended to keep him from coming closer. After a moment, Remus pulled back, face hot with embarrassment.

Faralyn cleared her throat. “I fancy someone else. So this is purely physical, okay?” Then she kissed him. Remus backed up against the wall, hands resting at her sides. Her hands cradled his face.

I hated myself for watching. More than that, I hated that I _liked_ watching him.

Faralyn moved her hands to his upper back as Remus’ hands felt up her sides. She broke away to let him trail down her jawline to her neck, and collar—

I checked the time. Two minutes. If I had been less stubborn, I would’ve stopped them, but part of me wanted an excuse to be mad at him, for once.

Remus kissed her stomach, getting closer and closer to the line of her trousers, his hands moving up the backs of her thighs. Then he stood and picked her up, each kiss deepening. This time he was the one to push her against the wall, careful yet firm, her legs crossed around him.

James’ watch beeped on my wrist. The five minutes were up.

I pulled back the curtain. Remus glanced sideways at me, then set Faralyn down. Both of their buttons were bright red.

“Well, congratulations.” I said, noting the color, my jaw tight.

Remus rolled his eyes and they went to show Peter.

_Fuck_. I left the closet, blinking rapidly, trying to lose my thoughts so I wouldn’t give anything away to the crowd, or to him.

Remus had gone immediately back to Strip Exploding Snap.

I brooded a bit longer, figuring out what to do. Neither of them could stop smiling, it seemed.

“What were you doing?”

“What?” Remus tried to glare at me and look oblivious at the same time.

I blinked. _“You knew._ You knew I could see you, couldn’t you? Remus, you don’t even know her!”

“So I should only kiss people I’m best mates with, huh?”

I gritted my teeth. “What are you getting at?”

Remus lowered his voice and stepped closer to me. “Well, imagine how you feel now after I snogged a stranger. Multiply that by—by a hundred, and that’s how I feel every time you snog James.”

My stomach squirmed. “It’s not like that between us.”

“I know what it’s like, Sirius, because it’s almost the same as what’s between you and I. Regardless, being exclusive has to go both ways. So for now, I don’t need your permission of whom I get to kiss, fuck, or whatever, if you don’t need mine.”

“It’s only James! I don’t care if you snog him or not.”

Remus shook his head. “Fuck you.”He took off his trousers, stuck his wand behind his ear, and returned to the game.

I joined the group of all blokes and lost every game on purpose until I was down to my pants. Then I drank. I was on my third glass when James called the room to attention again. Very few people had on more than their pants, and at least half of the room was intoxicated.

James clapped his hands together. “Okay, there’s one game left! We’re down to 42 people in the raffle, and even if you quit at one point you can still participate. So this game was suggested by one of our dear Muggleborn friends. It’s called Truth or Dare. Now, the Muggle version is a little too dry, and needs to accommodate our numbers, so we’ve mixed it up a bit. First, everyone needs to get into groups of four, with two groups of five.” He gestured to Peter, Remus, and I, and we joined him. The rest of the room arranged themselves in groups, then sat down to make a loose circle.

“Now. We’ll start by asking the group ‘Truth or Dare.’ If they choose Truth, then we ask them a question that they all have to answer truthfully. If they choose Dare, we can ask an individual or up to the entire group to do something, and they have to do it. Now the bigger twist: if the group refuses to do the dare—for example, we had asked them to all butt-fuck each other—then we have to do it, or be disqualified. If we do what they couldn’t, then _they’re_ disqualified.

“Also: everyone else will agree on a rating for your performance from one to five, five being the best. Each group can only be picked once per round. The team with the most points by the end of three rounds gets to pick any of the raffle items.” James let the excited whispers fade before continuing. “Feel free to ask other teams for suggestions. Alright, who wants to start?” He pointed at a group of sixth-year Ravenclaw girls who clearly had something in mind.

“Truth or Dare?” one of the girls asked us.

“Dare,” James replied immediately.

The girl turned to her friends, giggling too hard to speak. One of the others said, “Okay, each of you has to give us a lap dance.”

“And make it good if you want a five!” another added.

We exchanged glances. None of us knew where to start.

James snapped out of his initial surprise. “ _Accio chairs!_ Who gets who?” He stood up and motioned us to do the same.

The girl who had given us the dare chose me. If there was ever a time to lead everyone to believe I was straight, it was now.

I realized the others looked to me to start. I spread her legs apart, then placed both hands on the back of the chair and lowered myself over her. I met her eyes, smiled a bit, then slowly grinded against her. Everyone watching went berserk. Confident now, I placed my forehead on hers, running my hand from her thigh to her knee.

That was all they needed, apparently. “Five, five, you get fives,” two of them managed through tears of laughter.

I straightened and high-fived the other Marauders. They tried not to look embarrassed.

“We choose Evans’ group!” James said, sitting back down.

“Dare,” Aluria said immediately.

Lily pushed her. “You sod!” Then she turned to us. “I still have that balm.”

James shook his head. “No need. I dare you to make out with…” He looked around the room. “…Artemis Swann for one minute.”

It was obvious why James chose Artemis; he thought she was the most attractive girl in our year, apart from Lily.

Lily blushed, then flipped him off. She crossed the room to Swann, who adjusted her bra and stood.

Lily placed a hand on Swanns’ arm and kissed her, visibly restrained, clearly self-conscious. A flush creeped into her cheeks as the hesitant touches escalated.

I studied James’ expression. It was the same look he had after he kissed me, the same after we hide around the corner after a successful prank. He got off on breaking the rules, breaking convention. Is that why he got off with me?

Lily had her hand at the small of Swanns’ back, and drew her closer. When they broke apart at the call of “Time!”, Lily stared at Swann as though she’d forgotten where she was. As everyone voted five, she threw a smug look at James, but her eyes were far off.

For our second challenge twenty minutes later, Cassandra Chalfont consulted with the others, then pointed at me. “Black, describe the last sexual dream you had.”

“Er, okay, so—” I glanced at Remus, who realized what the glance implied and fixed his gaze on the floor.

Chalfont and her friends shushed the room. “When was it?”

“Er, three nights ago. I was in school, but it was my old primary school, for some reason…I mean, everyone was the age they are now. I was in Potions class, we were brewing some kind of poison, and a giant smashed through the wall…Everyone Apparated away, so I was alone, and then he—er, _she_ opened up a hatch in the floor and told me to come down with her.”

“What did she look like?”

I looked at Chalfont, then realized I could describe Remus and sound like I was describing her. “Brown hair, bright brown eyes, almost unbearably adorable…a smile that would hypnotize you.”

Chalfont grinned as her friends giggled.

“So I followed her, and somehow we were already topless, and there was a bed in this basement, or wherever we were. I kissed her, then we took the rest of our clothes off…And then we had the most unrealistic but pleasurable sex of my dream life. She came probably around ten times.”

Chalfont raised her eyebrows, then laughed. The group agreed on a four, which we accepted with grace.

James motioned for a huddle. “Okay. Let’s give a challenge to get one of the other groups to forfeit. I was thinking Hyman Cazenove’s. All boys, if you see where I’m going with that.”

Remus frowned. “Well, we’ll have to do whatever it is.”

James smirked and turned around. “Cazenove’s group: Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.” Cazenove’s overconfidence would make whatever James had in mind even more embarrassing.

James turned back to us. “Let’s tell him to do something really gay. They wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Peter started to sweat. “What if I have to do it, then?”

James shook his head. “If I phrase it right, you won’t. Okay, Sirius, you tell Cazenove he has to give one other person in his group a chub without magic.”

I thought for a moment. “So when they refuse, that means I have to give Remus a chub without magic.” I looked at Remus, trying to hide my reaction by matching his expression. He rolled his eyes and looked away.

James looked between us, then clapped his hands together. “Great! Okay, go on and tell them.”

I stood and cleared my throat. “Okay, Cazenove, here’s your dare: give one person in your group a chub…without magic.”

Cazenove coughed in surprise. Then he remembered the twist, and said, “You do it.”

I pretended to be just as nauseated at the idea and flipped him off. “Fuck you.” Then, just as everyone expected us to forfeit, I reached for Remus’ hand and pulled him to his feet. I leaned into his ear and said, “Pretend like this is my way of telling everyone that we’re in love, alright?” As I spoke, I traced his thigh with my fingers. “They’re looking at us and don’t think two blokes could be in love.” I brushed his ear with my lips, then said, “They think that I want someone else, and I’m saying I only want you, Remus.” I kissed his neck, my hand now inches away from the front of his pants.

Then I moved my hand away and placed my hand on either side of Remus’ face, ignoring the shrieks of surprise around us. I met his gaze, then kissed him on the lips, pressing myself as close as possible to him. The kiss was overwhelmed by our skin, with our pants the only separation between us…and finally, I got a response.

I broke off and winked quickly at him before gratuitously wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, wincing for effect.

Everyone had either collapsed with laughter or was silent with shock. I read the audience to be sure they didn’t actually think we were gay, and realized I didn’t have to worry; because the girls had enjoyed the show so much, everyone assumed we had done it for them.

The following round consisted of more truths than dares, as people were scared of having to do something as intense as Remus and I did. Eventually, we were called on for a third time.

“Dare,” James said.

Chris Barry nodded at the others, then asked, “Do you have any Love Potion?”

“Yeah,” Peter said automatically.

James elbowed him. “Way to go, Peter, you fucking knobhead.”

Barry smirked. “Two of you have to take Love Potion for the other two.”

“Ooh…” The room simmered with excitement.

James sent Peter to get the potion as we conferenced in low tones. “It has to be who we don’t have any relationship with. Remus, you take me, and Peter will take Sirius.”

I glanced at Remus, then nodded.

James addressed the crowd. “If we dilute a drop of the potion in water, it’ll last somewhere between a minute and ten minutes.” He motioned for the group by the refreshments to pass two glasses of water.

Peter returned with the Love Potion.

Remus uncorked the bottle and used his wand to put in a drop in each glass of water. “Okay, Sirius, give yours to Peter.”

We handed the drinks over, and they polished them off. After a moment, their expressions melted.

Peter threw his arms around me. “I love you so much,” he drawled.

I glanced at James, who had stumbled a bit backwards as Remus planted kiss after kiss on him, then I shouted over the laugher in the crowd, “Well, are you gonna try and stop him?”

James pulled away from Remus and kept him at arms’ length. “What do you think I’m doing?”

Just as I turned back around to face Peter, he came in sharply to kiss me and our heads knocked together.

“Fuckin’ hell, Peter.” I rubbed my head with one hand and pushed him away with the other.

“Let me heal you,” Peter said, and pulled out his wand. As he started to say the spell, his eyes focused again and his face turned a blotchy red color.

James pulled out his wand and pointed it at Remus. _“Levicorpus!”_

Remus was yanked up into the air by his ankle. Once he recovered from his initial surprise, he pouted at James. Then his expression fell, and he groaned. “Okay, I’m better now.”

_“Liberacorpus,”_ I said, and did my best to catch him. Thrown off-balance, I struggled under Remus’ weight, setting him down almost immediately.

“Well, that could’ve been worse,” Remus whispered, glaring at James as the group called out their rating.

James just laughed. “You’re right. A three isn’t so bad. Okay, now we get to choose…what groups are left?” He looked over them. “Alright…Adrian’s group. Truth or Dare.”

_Fuck._ Faralyn was in that group.

The four—Raven Faralyn, Rees Adrian, Sybil Fountayne, and Simon Rumblem—debated which to choose for a while, but eventually decided: “Dare.”

James smirked. “We’re gonna be real creative with this one, so hang on a minute.” To us, he said, “Okay, we have to make this last. If we want the rest of the groups to step up their game, it has to be a good challenge.”

I nodded. “Nudity, snogging, sex, something.” I had to pretend to not care about Faralyn.

“Sex is too extreme…probably.” James fell into thought, then bounced his idea off of us. Then he stood and walked to the center of the circle, facing the group. _“Accio mints!_ Okay, so this one’s a bit involved. Each of you chooses someone they’ve snogged in the past. Then, we’ll prevent you from hearing or seeing. Each person chosen will kiss you _without touching you_ , and you have to decide which one was the person you chose at the beginning.”

James had to explain it a few more times before they understood. He had them stand, then pick out someone they’d kissed. Adrian chose Florence Tyler and Fountayne chose Patrick Ludlow from Ravenclaw. Apparently Rumblem’s only kiss was from Spinning Cork, with a boy, so he was forced to choose Dirk Cresswell. And although Faralyn had kissed someone else during Spinning Cork, she chose Remus.

“Here’s the other twist: Whoever is chosen as the best kisser gets three points for their team. So each person will go down the line, and when they’re finished, then the next one will go. Everyone good? Alright.” James cast a spell to force their eyes closed and block their ears.

“Cresswell, how about you start. Then Remus, Ludlow, and Tyler.”

Cresswell gave both boys a quick peck, both girls a slightly longer but nonetheless awkward kiss.

Remus took a deep breath, then kissed Adrian, who, as they continued to snog, opened his mouth a little too enthusiastically.

Fountayne seemed taken aback by Remus’ intensity, but she adjusted quickly. Rumblem, on the other hand, knew what he was doing, even if he didn’t seem to know he was kissing a guy.

And then it was Faralyn’s turn. Remus hesitated a moment before kissing her, and by her immediate smile, she seemed to recognize who it was.

I rolled my eyes and looked away, studying the reactions in the crowd. Only some were watching; most were gossiping.

Patrick Ludlow and Florence Tyler both tried to outdo Remus, but three of the four in the group voted for the second kisser.

Only Faralyn and Fountayne guessed correctly.

James awarded the points, then said, “So we can conclude that boys are better at kissing but girls care more about the face they’re sucking.”

Most of the girls protested at this, so James asked, “Any girl want to prove otherwise?” and the girls scrunched up their faces in mock-disgust.

At the end of the game, the points were counted up. Lily’s team had the most points, so they got to choose from one of the prizes.

“The ‘Free Date with James’ coupon is tempting,” Lily said, “but we’re gonna have to take the Felix.”

After the rest of the prizes were distributed, it took us an hour to clean up and get ready for bed.

Back in the dorm, James crossed his arms and stared at his hard-on. “This is really fucking annoying.”

I examined a pimple in the mirror, then rubbed in the serum James had given me and watched it disappear. “Well, you’re stuck with it, so.”

“Evans said that was only if I jacked _myself_ off, right?”

I looked up, then glanced at Remus, who put his head in is hand, brow furrowed in annoyance. I sighed. “Why doesn’t Peter do it?”

James thought about it. “Wormtail? How about you stroke my wormtail?”

Peter rolled over on his bed. “I’m almost asleep, sorry.”

James threw a pillow at him.“Liar.” He looked at me. “Please, Sirius? It’s practically calling your name.”

I shook my head. “People will wonder who did it.”

“I’ll tell them some girl sucked me off. Wouldn’t be too unbelievable.”

“What about Lily, then? You want her to think you’re dishonest about fancying her?”

James thought about it. “Fine. It might not’ve worked anyway.” He looked down at it again. “Should I try tossing off, just to be safe?”


	5. Labels

  
**26 March, 1977 9:13**  


Remus poked at his eggs. “Lily wants to talk after dinner. Just the two of us.”

Juice dribbled from James’ mouth. “Is it about me?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, one of the courtyards. We’re walking from dinner together. Wait, you’re not going to eavesdrop, are you?”

“Oh, no, of course not.” James replied, without glancing at me or Peter. “If it’s not about me, I don’t see why we would.”

I hid my smirk by taking another bite of toast.

Remus looked between us. “Okay, because it sounded serious.”

James rolled his eyes. “I get it, Moony. No eavesdropping.” But when Remus wasn’t looking, James winked at me.

That night, Peter and James crept under the cloak while I used a Disillusionment Charm—there was only room for two. We decided that it would be best that I was the one who risked being spotted; I could more easily talk my way out of it, and Remus wouldn’t hold a grudge.

Lily and Remus sat down on a bench close to the Dining Hall.

“How are you?”

“Fine, you?”

“Yeah, I’m well.” Lily looked around. “You didn’t tell James I wanted to meet, did you?”

Remus fidgeted. “No, of course not. I knew he would want to follow me if I had.”

“Okay.” She breathed in. “I didn’t know who else to talk to about this, but…well, first, if you don’t mind me asking…are you with Sirius?”

Remus stared at her. “ _With_ him?”

Lily blushed, starting to doubt her suspicions. “Yeah, or at least, do you fancy him?”

“Where’s this coming from?”

Lily tried to read his expression. “I’m not interested in Sirius, or anything.”

“Oh. I didn’t think…” Remus rubbed the back of his neck. “But, er, I…”

Lily placed a hand on his arm. “You can tell me.”

Remus was still taken aback, but he managed, “I fancy him, yeah. Er, how could you tell?”

“I pay attention. I thought I was mad, until the party, when you…well, you know. Plus, I could tell you were fighting after he snogged Raven, and I put the pieces together. Before that, I had suspicions about all four of you, but James was hard to place, and Peter’s discomfort was unlikely to mean much, but you two…”

“Does anyone else know?”

There was no urgency in Remus’ voice. He didn’t seem to care as much as I assumed he would.

“No. See—that’s why I wanted to talk. Because I think you and I—we’re the same. I mean, we’re both attracted to boys _and_ girls.”

Remus blinked. “Really? You’re bisexual, too?”

Lily nodded. “Looking back, I could tell how I felt as a kid. But at the time I thought that all girls felt the same way I did, but our attraction to boys was different…And as I grew up, I thought I had to choose. James hasn’t helped with the confusion, you know. Truly, he made me doubt whether I’d ever want to be with a bloke. So I waited to feel something. And at the party, when I kissed Artemis, I did feel something. But I wasn’t only looking at the girls at the party, I looked at the boys, too.” She glanced at Remus. “What about you? When did you know?”

Remus thought for a moment. “I’m used to hiding. Sometimes that means from myself. But with this…it seemed trivial compared to other things. But, er, like you, I thought I had to be one way or the other. More than that, I thought I was just sexually frustrated. Especially since it’s not an even 50-50 split between the two, you know? But when I started to fall in—to _fancy_ Sirius, I realized it was more than physical.”

Lily studied him. “Are you going to tell anyone you’re bi? Because I’m not sure what I should do. I’m assuming James and Peter know about you, so how did they take it?”

Remus hesitated, pretending to remember as he searched the wall for a sign that we were eavesdropping. “They’ve all taken it in stride, of course. Peter is more awkward about it, but he’s like that with everything. James…he might be _too_ okay with it. Your friends could be different. Have you tried bringing up other people who are gay in conversation to test their reaction?”

“Yeah, actually, and I’ve found—I suppose they think it’s weird, but it doesn’t go against their beliefs, per se, just what they think is normal. So I don’t know. I just don’t want things to change between us.”

“Do you feel like you’re lying to them? Or pretending to be someone you’re not?”

Lily shrugged. “Yeah. But why make myself miserable because of it?”

“I think…if you’re more uncomfortable sharing than hiding, well, wait until you fancy a girl.”

Lily furrowed her brow. “Really?”

“Or until you’re in a relationship.”

“Is that how you came out?”

“Er…yeah. I suppose how it played out wasn’t ideal, but yeah.”

“I have to trust I’ll know when the right time is. My friends are too gossipy for it to stay a secret, though, so I would have to be prepared for the whole school to know.” Lily inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “I feel much better.”

Remus smiled a little. “Me too. If you need to talk about anything, just let me know.”

They stood and hugged.

Lily gestured down the corridor. “Are you going to the tower?”

“No, I’m gonna see if I can find the other Marauders.”

“Okay, see you later, then. Oh, and Remus?”

Remus turned. “Yeah?”

“You won’t tell anyone? Even Sirius?”

He shook his head. “Course not.”

Lily smiled. “Thank you.” Then she left. 

Remus waited until she turned the corner before drawing his wand. He pointed in our direction and said, _“Expelliarmus!”_

My wand shot out of my pocket.

Remus caught our wands, turning red with anger. “ _Fuck_ you lot. _Fuck_ you.” Then he started in the opposite direction.

“Wait, Remus!” James took off the cloak and hurried after him. “We won’t tell anyone. We haven’t said anything about you, why would you think—”

“But she asked to talk to me, because she knew I would understand, okay? You can’t understand. And you’re not friends with her, so you had no right.”

James let go of his arm. “C’mon, Remus, it’s not a big deal. It doesn’t change anything.”

Remus flipped him off and walked away.

James mouth hung open as he turned to look at me. “What’s stuck up his arse?”

I frowned. “I dunno. He’s going through a rebellious phase.”

“Or Sirius is up his arse,” Peter suggested.

I glared at Peter as James laughed. “Ha ha, very funny.”

James sobered and looked down the corridor. “We have to do something to make it up to him.”

“Like what?”

James pressed his lips together. “Something big. He’s put up with our shit for so long, we need to take some of his shit. Animagus project-scale.”

A thought struck me. “Then, you won’t miss your free time?”

James raised an eyebrow at me.

I took a breath. “Let’s find a cure.”

**27 March, 1977 19:56**

“Headmaster, we want to talk to you about a possible project.”

Dumbledore sat down at his desk and gestured for us to sit.

I glanced at James, then said, “We want to find a cure for werewolfism.”

“Lycanthropy, yes—”

James cut in. “We can do research.”

Dumbledore leaned back, studying us. “Would you keep up with your studies?”

We nodded. James added, “We’d have less time to cause trouble.”

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “If you resist spending more time in the pursuit of mischief than your studies.”

“Well, you can see how it goes for a while, and then we can go from there.”

Dumbledore looked between us for a moment, then pulled out a scrap piece of parchment and a quill. “I will give you the name of a potioneer, his name is Damocles. He has been working on a cure, and I am sure if he had Remus as a _willing_ test subject, he could complete his work. Write him, see how you can help. After you set something up, I will speak to Professor Slughorn about lightening your course load.”

James grinned. “Thank you, Headmaster. We’ll talk to Remus.”

We got up and hurried out of his office. When we got back to the Tower, we discovered the door to the dorm was locked.

James knocked only once before he pulled out his wand, said _“Alohomora,”_ and opened the door.

We stared at Remus, who was quickly removing the black jumper he had on— _my_ jumper.

James closed the door behind us. “Why was the door locked?”

“And were you wearing my jumper?”

Remus flushed, but tried to look defiant by gritting his teeth. “I thought we should start locking the door. And when it’s locked, you have to knock before entering.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That didn’t answer my question. At least, I don’t think it did.”

Remus looked at me. “I didn’t know it was yours.”

“Then why did you take it off when—”

Peter, face redder than Remus’, interrupted us. “Look, Remus, we just talked to Dumbledore. We want to find a cure for Lycanthropy.”

“Great. Yeah. Sure,” Remus said, folding his arms. He was supposed to be cross with me, but it seemed desire had got the best of him.

Eventually, Remus registered what Peter had said. “You what?”

James explained, “We’re going to help Dumbledore with a cure. So you don’t have to worry about being a werewolf anymore.”

I pretended not to notice Remus’ embarrassment. “It’s hard enough being bi, let alone a bi werewolf. So if we had to choose, we’d lose the werewolf—not that there’s a difference to us if you’re a werewolf, only that your life would be better without having to worry about it.”

**1 April, 1977 1:10**

I woke up to find Remus moving my hand over his pants to his crotch. I tensed. He must’ve been awake: his movements were too deliberate to be driven by a dream.

Remus held my gaze as he lifted his hand away; I kept my fingers on his trousers. He kissed me, and I kissed back harder, running my fingers up and down the front of his trousers, teasing him. After a bit, I got a response. Remus squirmed, hips rising toward me. I reached under my pillow, grabbed my wand, then muttered a charm to lubricate my hand. I traced my finger up his thigh, through his pant leg, then reached what I was looking for and began to move my hand up and down, slowly.

As my pace increased, it became harder for Remus to keep quiet. I grabbed my wand with my other hand. _“Muffliato.”_

Remus let out a moan just after I cast the spell. I pulled down his pants and felt heat rise within me. I’d only been this intimate with James when he had me on gender-switching potion. But Remus didn’t know about any of that. _Should I pretend I didn’t know what I was doing?_ I went for it anyway, prepared to lie if he questioned me later.

Remus came quickly.

As I wiped off my mouth, I studied him, bemused. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“What?” he said—slightly out of breath—as I rested my head on the pillow beside him.

“You didn’t last very long, is all.”

“It’s because you’re brilliant and my sex life is woefully uneventful.”

I grinned and inched closer to him. “I can change that.”

Remus traced my jawline with his fingers, then pressed the full length of his body to me.

I stripped so we were both naked, equal—our bodies completely touching as we lay, silent, with nothing but our breathing and the warmth of our flesh. I wrapped my arms around his back and ran my fingers across his skin. Remus’ chest expanded, roused from its steady rhythm, before he turned over and positioned himself over me.

I smirked. “What are you waiting for?”

Remus paused, staring down at me with such an intense expression of understanding that my expression faded. Something stirred deep within me as I registered the fact that neither of us had experienced the same connection with anyone else as we did with each other.

**3 April, 1977 16:23**

“No one’s around. C’mon.” James tugged my sleeve.

I surveyed the area, then, trusting his word, leaned in, tasting his tongue. I hated myself for relishing James’ straightness, the belief that I could somehow change his sexuality.

I must’ve subconsciously heard something, because I chose that second to open my eyes—just in time to see Snape running away.

“What is it?”

I feared James’ reaction almost more than the consequences of this. “Snivellus saw us.”

“Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_ , Sirius, what the hell are we going to do?” James kicked the wall, then ran his hands through his hair, eyes starting to water.

“I knew it was too risky.”

“Shut _up_ , Sirius!” James squeezed the bridge of his nose, then sighed. “Fine, I should’ve listened. But it’s too late now. He’s going to tell Lily, and then what? And once anyone finds out, the whole school will know…”

I watched him pace, then said, “They won’t find out.”

James looked at me, then recognized the deadly seriousness in my expression. “What do you have in mind?”

“I know he’s going to use it as leverage against us. That gives us time. But don’t worry about the details; I have it covered.”

James shook his head. “He’s beyond reasoning.”

As if on cue, a rolled sheet of parchment landed at our feet. I picked it up and unfurled it. “‘Meet me here at six tonight. Only one of you.’”

James nodded, perhaps slightly convinced things would work out. “You’ll go, then? If I skip another detention, I could be kicked off the Quidditch team. And Wormtail has Moony’s transformation covered.”

I nodded, falling deep into thought. Surely James was concealing the full extent of his worry, as I was. I knew I should fear the conviction in the plan I had, but I didn’t. Severus wouldn’t have the power to destroy our lives.

We went the entire day without telling Remus or Peter. James and I had enough secrets between us that it didn’t feel too uncomfortable.

Snivellus arrived at six, as promised.

“Can you offer something in return for my discretion?”

I took a step forward. “Yes.”

“What?” Snape held his ground.

I took another step toward him. “No one has to know.” If Snape was gay, he’d lose his leverage, as much as it repulsed me to imagine it. This wasn’t part of my plan, but I figured I might as well…

“If you’re suggesting I—”

“Where did you get that idea?” Still, I crossed the rest of the distance between us.

Snivellus struggled to keep his gaze. I was close to making him weak.

Just as I was about to touch him, Snape drew his wand and touched the tip to his throat. “I can tell the whole school now, if you want.”

I pushed the wand away. “Wouldn’t they just hate you more? Lying about the most well-liked blokes in school? Why should anyone believe you?”

“I have ways of proving it. Enough Slytherins will believe me to make your lives hell. I’m sure there are plenty who would take the opportunity to exact revenge.”

“Fine.” I’d let him believe he’d won. “I can offer you information on Remus. I can show you where he goes every month.”

Snivellus tried to contain his excitement. “Out with it, then.”

“Hang on, how can I trust you’ll keep your word?”

“Why give you another reason to hate me?” Snape said quickly.

I didn’t care if he was lying. He wouldn’t have the chance to go back on his word. “Alright. You want to know about Remus? Follow me.”

Snape fell into step with me, too wary to be ahead, too proud to be behind.

My fingers twitched with anticipation, and my skin prickled with fury. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at Snape; I feared I’d do the job now, as an Animagus. No, having Remus kill him was more appropriate. Snape would have his incessant curiosity be his demise, that was more fitting. Besides, it had to look like an accident.

After thinking it out a bit more, I was more sure in my ability to control myself. I looked at Snape.

He noticed immediately, and, oddly, his cheeks flushed. “Keep it in your trousers, will you?”

I scoffed, but held my gaze. “What, scared I’ll fuck you with my eyes?”

Snape faltered in his step. “Don’t be stupid.”

“No, you’ve got that covered.”

Snape grabbed my collar.

We stared at each other, then, to piss him off more, I leaned in as though I’d kiss him.

Snape jumped back. “Are you off your head?”

Wow, he thought _that_ was mad. “Sorry, you were giving me mixed signals.” I smirked at his indignant expression before I started to walk again. Like most straight blokes, his greatest fear was that he would be taken as a flaming homosexual.

Snivellus refused to move at first, but his desire to get my end of the deal was greater than his desire to distance himself from me. In that way, we were similar.

“Snivelly, I’m going to let you in on a secret.” I could say anything now, it didn’t matter anymore.

“It’s not part of the deal—”

“People don’t hate you because you’re ugly or weird. They hate you because you’re a bad person.”

Snape glared at me. “If the only difference between us is our looks, why do they like you more?”

I tried to figure out if he’d insulted me more than he’d insulted himself. “I’m not a slave to Voldemort.”

“You’re a slave to the people. You’re constantly trying to find approval. It’s pathetic, really.”

“If you feel that way, if you don’t like people who like drawing attention to themselves, then why would you blackmail us?”

“Because you deserve it.”

I scoffed, but we were nearing the Whomping Willow, so I didn’t say anything in return. I couldn’t risk scaring him off now.

Once we were just out of the branches’ reach, I stopped, grabbing Snape before he could walk in the tree’s path. “Right. So to access the secret tunnel, you levitate a branch and hit that knot at the base of the tree—the biggest one—and it will freeze.”

Snape assessed me, suspicious at my nonchalance, then did I as instructed. As he climbed down through the tunnel, I followed just far enough behind to make sure it worked. The anxious energy inside me boiled over into a desperate need for him to die. _The world would be a better place without him. My world would be a better place without him._ I stopped just far enough away to escape while Remus was distracted by Snape.

Snivellus opened the door and stared at Remus, now fully transformed. There was a pause before they realized one was meant to hunt and the other to be hunted. Just as Remus leapt toward Snape, James appeared from underneath his invisibility cloak and pushed him out of the way. He stunned Remus, blasting him back into the Shrieking Shack, then forced the door closed, locking it again.

James bent down and checked Snape, then straightened, ignoring the whimpering from behind the door. “He’s unconscious.”

I could feel James’ anger with me, but in my confused frustration, I ignored it. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“You mean, why did I stop you from killing him? That’s what you were trying to do, wasn’t it? You were going to kill him?”

I took out my wand and crossed the length of the tunnel. “I _am_ going to kill him.”

_“Expelliarmus!”_

My wand flew through the air and into James’ hand. I gawked at him, but before I could protest, he cut me off.

“We aren’t killing him, Padfoot.”

“Prongs—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Wanting to _kill_ someone? He’s a kid, too!” James was no longer looking at me as though he understood me.

“Snivellus is practically a Death Eater. What’d you think we’d be doing in the war?”

“Not _killing_ people.” James shook his head. “Capture, not kill, for Merlin’s sake. Death Eaters will be more useful alive for interrogation than dead.”

I glared at him. “It doesn’t always work out that way.”

And at that, James looked at me—toward me, rather—as if I weren’t there. “In self-defense, maybe. But we can’t sink to their level.”

I snorted. “Then how will we win?”

Snivellus coughed, struggling to rise to a sitting position.

James turned. _“Petrificus Totalus!”_ He positioned Snape so he couldn’t see us, then cast a Muffling Charm so he couldn’t hear us. “There.” He sighed. “Padfoot, was this really about Snape being a follower of You-Know-Who, or was it to shut him up about the kiss?”

I flushed. “Why couldn’t it be both?”

“Padfoot…”

“He _cannot_ know, much less tell anyone.”

“There’s a better way, then. A memory charm.”

I crossed my arms. “What if it goes wrong?”

“Blimey, Padfoot, you didn’t think killing him could go wrong? Look, once Remus has turned back, we’ll have him do it. He’ll be pissed, but he’s the best at it. Okay?”

I shrugged, then transformed and entered the Shrieking Shack.

A few hours later, Remus returned to his human form. I followed and knelt beside him, his clothes in hand. “Remus?”

“Give me a minute…” He sat up and rubbed his temple. “What the hell happened? I feel awful.”

James glanced at me. “Sirius tried to kill Snape.”

Remus stopped in the middle of pulling on his trousers. “What?”

“No, I—He saw James kiss me and threatened to tell the whole school.”

Remus looked at me. “Why did he kiss you?”

“It didn’t mean anything. Right, Sirius?”

I drew in a breath, but the pause tipped Remus off.

“I see.” A shadow fell over his expression.

I noticed and turned to James. “Can you give us a moment?”

James nodded, relieved, and left the room.

I sat down on the floorboards next to Remus, silent as I figured out what I wanted to say.

Remus spoke first. “Why does this keep happening?”

“I don’t know. I suppose—I suppose I want to make him gay.”

Remus, clearly not expecting that, stared at me.

“There’s something—he’s almost gay, you know? He’s practically there. And he’s told me he wishes he could be, so again and again I find myself…I want to make him realize it.” Vocalizing how I felt made me realize how silly it was.

Remus broke his gaze and stood up. _Had he not heard what I just said?_ “C’mom, let’s deal with Snape.”

“Er, okay…well, we thought you could cast a memory charm.” Though I was still confused at his dismissal, I explained the predicament as we gathered around Snivellus’ frozen body.

Remus knelt down to get a closer look. “No visible injuries…if this works, he should wake up confused as to why you tried to kill him. At best, he won’t remember any of this. Realistically, though, at my skill level, his mind will bypass needing an answer and believe you did it because you hate him.”

I nodded. “If something goes wrong, I’ll take the fall.”

Remus turned to glare at me. “Of course you will. It’s your fault this happened.”

The memory charm worked. Snape forgot about the kiss, but knew I tried to kill him before James saved him. We told Dumbledore it was an accident, and though he undoubtedly didn’t believe us, he was too preoccupied with reining in Snape’s demand to have Remus taken out of Hogwarts to refute our perspective.

That night, Remus, exhausted from his transformation, went to bed early, along with Peter, who was sour that he’d missed the evening’s events. James and I were left to talk.

“So you’re not off the Quidditch team?”

“No. I used a sleeping potion on Flitwick so he’d think I stayed for detention. I’m praying he doesn’t notice, as he’s known to fall asleep during detention, but you still made me risk my spot on the team. Look, Padfoot, I hate old Snivelly as much as you do, but what if we’d been kicked out of school for murder?”

“No, I had it worked out. It was going to be an accident—”

“What of Moony, then?”

“What about him?”

“Imagine what it would’ve done to him. He’s always been afraid of killing someone, or worse, turning them…”

“But imagine if I was outed for being with you? Imagine if we were discovered at all. Sure, no one’s been expelled for having sex at school, but by law they were often allowed. If the legal age for us were sixteen, not twenty-one…”

“Sirius, it was just a kiss.”

“But imagine if the Ministry got involved. What if they called for us to be expelled, or we could never work for the Ministry, or anyone, for that matter.”

“Sirius.” James put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re right, Snape had to be shut up. But killing him? Our lives would be even more fucked.”

I chewed my lip. “But if he makes it out of school, he’ll join the Death Eaters and kill loads of people.”

“We have to wait for the timing to be right. He’ll get what’s coming to him, but for now, no murdering sprees, okay, Padfoot?”

I nodded, then turned my head to avoid his kiss.

**11 April, 1977 18:42**

Remus and I were finally alone in the dorm.

“Moony, look at me.”

Remus glanced up.

“I don’t have feelings for James, okay? It’s just physical, or just emotional, rather—regardless, how can I make it up to you?”

He stared at me. “We have five minutes, don’t we?”

Five minutes. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Remus took off his shirt quickly, then kissed me. I was thrown off, and less desperate to be touched because of James, so I didn’t fully reciprocate.

Noticing this, Remus pulled back. Hurt and confusion grew in his expression.

I touched his cheek and leaned into his ear. “I’m sorry.” I kissed his neck and shifted my fingers to his chest.

Then I got down on my knees. Remus looked down at me, shivering a bit with nervousness; we were in daylight this time, and that seemed to weaken his resolve. I traced his skin with my hands, and his muscles tightened at my touch. Smirking a bit, I placed my hands at his sides and kissed his stomach. As my mouth trailed closer to his waist, Remus weaved his fingers into my hair.

I unbuckled his belt, then ran my hands up his thighs and tugged his trousers down. I glanced up at Remus. He reluctantly met my gaze, but remained embarrassed.

I placed my hand on his inner thigh, moving closer and closer until he was nearly hard.

Remus laughed a little, sending warm sparks through me. I slowly moved his pants down, then closed my mouth around him. His fingers loosened, then tightened and he gasped a little.

After a couple minutes, Remus climaxed and his hand fell to his side. I stood up, kissing him, then pulled back. “How was that?”

Remus could only nod. Good, then: I wouldn’t get too much of an earful later. I already knew I was a prick; I didn’t know if I could stand to have Remus remind me. I knew I could never have the same moral code as Remus, that he would always be a better person. I only wished he didn’t think he was always at fault.

“Did you ever do that for James?”

“Suck him off? What makes you think—”

“I didn’t think much of it last time, but it’s as though you have experience.”

I stalled answering by cleaning my shirt. “Yeah. Last summer. Kind of a lot, actually.”

“Oh.”

“He had me take these pills so I’d turn into a girl for a while.”

Remus pulled his arms through his robe. “That’s shitty.”

I was hesitant to agree. “I figured I could use the practice. It showed, didn’t it?” I smirked.

Remus flushed, walking past me to hide his expression. “You were a bit too rough.”

I huffed. “You came a bit too fast. Again.”

Remus stopped, then turned to face me to show he was teasing. “Well, we only had five minutes.”

**17 April, 1977 17:29**

I went up to Dumbledore’s to check in about our research, and also make sure he didn’t know anything about what I tried to do to Snape. His office door was unlocked, but he wasn’t inside.

A light glowed in the corner of the room. I recognized the source—a stone basin—but had never paid much attention to it.

Slowly and casually (in case Dumbledore walked in) I crossed to the basin. A silvery strand swirled inside, circling, almost as though to hypnotize…I found myself leaning down and plunging my face into the water.

I appeared in a field. I surveyed the area; behind me was a group of homes that were clearly magical by their style and illuminated quality. I spotted two boys down the slope of the field, so I headed that way. “Hey, could you tell me how far I am from Hogwarts?” Neither seemed to hear me, but I was still a reasonable distance away, so I said more loudly, “Hello?”

The boys were probably eighteen years old and lay side by side on a large blanket, books piled around them like the walls of a fort. I moved to get a closer look. I was just about to try to get their attention again when sparks shot up from the air above them. I stepped back instinctively, but I had the increasing suspicion that I couldn’t be hurt, so I continued to approach until I could see they were practicing wandless magic.

Then I stopped. The pieces came together at once; the smirk, the bright eyes, old-fashioned clothing…it was Dumbledore. He was much younger, but it was him. I didn’t recognize the other boy, though something about him made me think I should recognize him. He was blond, seemed charismatic, and was arrestingly handsome.

As I finished assessing the two, Dumbledore leaned over and kissed the other boy.

A hot wash of embarrassment—but possibly excitement—flooded through me. I knew I was intruding on a secret, something very private, yet I couldn’t pull my eyes away.

“Ah.” The boy averted his gaze. “I thought you might have feelings for me.” He sat up.

Dumbledore studied him, waiting. I noticed I was holding my breath, too.

The boy turned so he was facing Dumbledore, then reached over and brushed the hair out of Dumbledore’s eyes.

The gesture, familiar yet more bittersweet, sent shivers down my spine.

“You are intelligent, incredibly gifted, and your companionship has been very important to me. Only—” He hesitated, and in that hesitation, I understood. “…Only I cannot return your feelings. I care for you deeply, and I love you, but not in the way you love me.”

Dumbledore sat up, eyes shining. “I see. I supposed, maybe, since you never expressed interest in women, that you might feel the same way. I’m sorry, Gellert, I—”

“There is no need to apologize,” the boy Gellert said, sighing, as though annoyed. “I’m flattered. So you know, if I were not so invested in our mission, I may well be interested in women. But romance is a distraction to the larger mission. Friendship is not harmful—helpful, in fact—but romantic love is harmful, you see.”

“I understand.” As Dumbledore averted his gaze, the scene sped away from me, and I lifted my face out of the water.

“What are you doing?” a voice asked sharply behind me. Dumbledore.

I turned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to see that. I was trying to kill time. I—”

“What did you see?” Dumbledore began to pace.  


“I saw you and that boy, Gellert.”

Dumbledore took a deep breath. “And do you know who Grindelwald is?”

“Grindelwald?” _Of course, Gellert Grindelwald._ “That was—you two were friends?”

“Yes. Very few people, if more than one, know this about me.”

Which part of what I had seen was he referring to? He seemed about to scold me for intruding so I said, “I understand, sir. The—what you did, I understand.” I cocked an eyebrow, imploring him to know what I meant so I didn’t have to spell it out.

Surprised, Dumbledore took a moment to stand still in his pacing. Finally, he said, “This is my most carefully guarded secret. If I explain it to you, I want to know you will not share it with anyone, even your friends. Especially James.”

_Especially James?_ “Alright.”

Dumbledore regarded me, assessing my sincerity, then began to pace again. “We were both very ambitious teenagers. The summer we met, we had great ideas about how we would rule the world. Perhaps not literally, but we both wanted power more than anything else. When Gellert learned of my attraction to him, he used it to manipulate our relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

“He knew he could stretch the limits of our friendship and I would remain loyal. He was not malicious, but he knew he had a certain power over me.”

“You fought him, didn’t you? And then he was imprisoned? My parents must’ve told me about it, I can’t remember when, but…”

“We did have quite a falling out.” Dumbledore chuckled, but it rang hollow. “That is another story.” He fell into thought. “It may seem insignificant now, but if you share what you saw, or what I told you with anyone, the entire war could likely turn to Voldemort’s favor.”

I blinked. “How?”

“I would likely be forced to resign from my position as Headmaster. Hogwarts would no longer be safe, and I would fall out of favor with the Ministry.”

“For being…?”

“It harms my case that I chose Grindelwald, but yes.”

“Bloody hell.” I caught myself. “Oh, sorry, sir.”

“Quite alright.” Dumbledore was already in another place. “Anyhow, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I wanted to ask—has Snape been round?”

“Not since you were last here.”

“Good. I mean, okay. And that wasn’t why, actually, I just wanted to let you know we’re recording our research, and by the end of the year, we should have something useful to Damocles.”

“Excellent. I will let him know. Is there anything else?”

“No, sir, that’s all.” I made to leave.

“Before you go, Sirius, let me remind you—and if this comes as a threat, I have no intention of it being one—that you now possess information I chose not to erase from you. If you wish to prove your capacity as an aspiring Auror, then no part of this may be shared with anyone. If you do share it, I will know.” He smiled. “See you at dinner.”


	6. Polyjuice Potion

 

**23 April, 1977 14:49**

“Sirius, I’m going to ask you to do something for me. I will owe you whatever you want.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid to agree before you tell me what it is.”

James glanced around, then pulled out a flask. “Polyjuice Potion. Cost me fifteen Galleons.”

“You need money?”

“No, see—Lily laughed at my joke yesterday.”

“I’m not following…”

James lowered his voice. “She wants it.”

I laughed. “Sure, mate, but where does Polyjuice Potion come in?”

“Well, one of us has to know what we’re doing, and it’s not going to be her.”

Now I understood. “You’re serious?”

“No, you are.”

I tried not to grin. “Cut it out.” I pulled him aside. “Really, though, are you asking me what I think you’re asking?”

“You take the potion, turn into Lily…It’s guaranteed to last at least thirty minutes. I just need to know how it all works. Plus, you’re into guys, I’m into girls, so it works out, right? It doesn’t even count, anyway.” James put an arm around me. “C’mon, I’ll make it fun, I promise.”

I wished I didn’t want to have sex with James, that way I could say no, and maybe James would get Peter to do it. The biggest part of me, though, was stupidly curious of the idea, and I tried to keep myself from imagining it.

“I’ll toss you off after, if that helps convince you…”

I swallowed, trying to ignore the last bit so I didn’t get excited. “Yeah, sure. I’ll do it. Just…don’t tell the others, alright?”

“Can I tell Lily? When she and I are married, of course.”

“No, you can’t!” I pushed him a little, grinning. “Prick.”

**25 April, 1977 19:09**

We sat on James’ bed, flipping through a book of sex positions. “Well, missionary, obviously…you’ll try being on top, too…that’s enough, don’t you think? Then I’ll finger you, and eat you out. Probably those first, I dunno if I’ll stay up, since you won’t really be Lily. If I’m having trouble, though, can you help me out?”

As James handed me the flask, I asked, “How are you so relaxed about this?” I was hurt, but I didn’t let it show. _James thought I’d ruin his hard-on?_

He cracked a little. “Sorry. If I act like I’m relaxed, it helps. Hang on… _Muffliato!_ There, now we won’t be disturbed. Go on, you can take the Polyjuice Potion.”

As I forced myself to down the potion, James continued his instructions. “If you want to stop, tell me. If I’m doing something that’s weird, or I’m not pleasing you enough—”

I couldn’t help splutter as I drank.

“Quit it, I’m trying to be serious, here! This is purely for research. I need your feedback, alright?”

I handed the flask back to him. My skin bubbled and shrank, my hair grew, and my eyesight improved slightly, all as James eyed me, hungry.

“How do I look?” My voice came out in a higher pitch, in Lily’s voice.

James nodded, smiling. “Beautiful. I’ll do most of the work, alright? Since I don’t know how much she’ll be doing when this actually happens.”

I could tell, suddenly, that he was nervous, so I kissed him first. It was almost as I remembered the first time, except James felt more in control now than he had then. He backed me up further onto the bed, then took off my shirt. We both stared at my tits.

James took a quick breath, then removed his own shirt. I undid my belt and slipped it off before sliding my trousers to my ankles. James tugged my pants off, face turning pale. “Alright, do you mind if I look for a moment?”

“What are you, my doctor?”

“Yes. Your sex doctor.” James smirked at me, and I bit my lip to keep from exchanging the expression.

“Open your legs,” he said.

“Yes, sir, Dr. Potter.”

James looked back up at me. “Sirius—I mean, Lily—you are killing the moment.”

I rolled my eyes, then rested my head on the pillows.

“My God, it’s a jungle down here.”

“Like, hairy?”

“I mean it’s not as simple as I thought it’d look.” James took a deep breath, ready to go in.

I lifted my head up. “Hang on, you’re moving way too fast.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not…aroused.”

“Is that you talking or Lily?”  


“I dunno, both? Kiss me a while first.”

We locked eyes. The bed squeaked as James crawled toward me. His lips met mine and he ran his hands along my sides and up to my breasts. I moaned a little—while Lily’s voice put me off, it made James handle me with more vigor. As our tongues met, I pulled off his shirt. His chest was warm and smooth, in stark contrast to Remus’. My fingers kneaded the muscles in his back, feeling the beads of sweat on his skin.

“Alright, now,” I managed, after his mouth trailed to my neck. I shivered and let my eyes close as one of his hands moved up my thigh, the other he lubricated with magic. “So what’re you going to do? The book said to ‘stimulate the clit’—”

To answer, James rubbed his finger around the skin next to it, then on it.

“Okay. That’s…” I gripped the sheets and arched my back. He ran his entire hand up and down over me, and my breath quickened.

“I’m going in,” he told me.

I managed a nod before I felt the tip of his finger making little circles inside me. He worked his way deeper, flexing up and down. At first, it didn’t do much. Whenever he looked to me for approval, I shook my head. Just as it began to be too uncomfortable, James had made out my sounds to indicate what worked and what didn’t.

“Two, use two…” I dug the back of my head into my pillow, the pleasure too unbearable to stay still. James’ movements intensified until I came. I had come many times before, but this was stronger, different; was it because of James, or that I was a woman? It had taken more to put me over the edge, but the reward was worth the time.

James pulled out, then sniffed his fingers.

“The fuck are you doing?” I said, breathing hard.

“Research,” James replied. We grinned at each other. Face flushed, James unbuckled his trousers and pulled them off along with his pants, ready to go further.

“Shit,” I said graciously, studying him. James positioned himself, hands on either side of me, then entered me again. “Prongs…” I said as he began to thrust. At first, there was discomfort, pain even, but it wore away.

“Good?” James asked, teeth gritted.

“Fuck, yes…” I wound my fingers into his. “Wait, do it slow first—” My voice dissolved into a gasp and I couldn’t continue. An intense feeling spread through my body, and I couldn’t identify it as fueled by either love or lust, but it was electric.

Minutes passed. I didn’t come this time, but James did, and he immediately rolled off me.

“Merlin, that was brilliant.” James exhaled, eyelids drooping, and turned his head to study me. “Tips?”

I hesitated, still hungry for more, emotionally and physically. I looked at Lily’s body. “First off, I think it was good for a first time. But it would help to do something romantic first. Get her excited…do a strip tease.”

“Okay, get her excited…Wait, are you serious about the strip tease?”

“It’d lighten the mood, I think. And also, let the anticipation build more before taking it to the next step. The last thing is to…Merlin, this is awkward, but do more to her first. Like eat her out. And don’t go all in at first.”

James brushed my hair aside. “This is probably the strangest thing I’ve ever done, or ever will do.”

“What about me?”

“Hm?”

I felt immensely embarrassed, and annoyed that he hadn’t thought of her, or me. “What should I do?”

“Oh, er…I suppose, touch my—or whoever’s—dick more. And more moaning. But I can’t tell her that before we fuck. Probably.”

We turned to lay on our backs. I felt my body churn again and knew I was changing back. I stayed silent, unable to bear James’ disappointment when he saw me instead of Lily. His eyes fluttered closed, on the verge of sleep, it seemed.

When I had returned to myself, I kissed him.

James rose to meet me, but soon realized I was no longer in Lily’s body.

“Are you going to hold up your end of the deal?” I asked. I hoped he wasn’t planning to touch me out of pity.

James hesitated a moment before saying, “Yeah, sure. Just let me clean up.” He put on hisshirt and trousers before leaving the room.

I studied the ceiling. I hoped we hadn’t crossed a line, that nothing would be different after having sex, even if I had been in Lily’s body. I ignored the thought in the back of my mind that the fantasies I’d had about sex with James made the act dull. Disappointing, even. In my wandering mind, James had always had a command of himself that automatically made him a good lover, even with both us of as virgins.

I reached for my wand to clean up the sheets, then noticed a pink bottle on the nightstand. _“Scourgify,”_ I said, pointing at the bed. Then I studied the label on the bottle. “‘Re’em Stimulating Serum.’” The bottle was vaguely phallic. “Where the hell did he get this?”

The door opened, and James slipped through. I felt my lower torso flush with anticipation.

“Oh, you found the serum.” James stretched luxuriously, muscles taut, and by his grin I could tell he knew the effect he had on me. “I didn’t want to try it when you were Lily because I didn’t want to skew the experiment. I do want to know how it works, though.” He knelt beside the bed and placed his hands on either side of me. “You want it, or what?”

I spread my legs a bit. “Cheeky bastard.” I bent and kissed him, tasting the toothpaste on his tongue. I slid my trousers to my ankles, then reached for the serum.

“Allow me,” James said, pouring a generous amount on his palms. He started slow, back and forth, until I was fully hard, then worked faster. The serum enhanced the warmth that flooded me.

“Harder, please…” 

James hesitated, then trailed his hand down to the base of my shaft and leaned closer. His mouth—warm, soft—closed around the head of my cock, and I gasped, eyes on him in a mixture of shock and deep surrender as his mouth moved up and down.

“Oh, god, James, fuck—Remus!” I sat up, and James was forced to let go. “Fuck’s sake, James! You forgot to lock the door!” I grabbed my wand to diffuse my hard-on. “Moony walked in, just now. He went downstairs, probably broken up. Bloody hell, I can’t believe…”

James cleaned his hands. “What use would it’ve done to lock the door? And, shit, you’re not allowed to fuck around with me?”

“Well—no, I suppose—I don’t know.”

James pulled his shirt on. _“Then why the fuck would you have me do that?_ You’re a fucking idiot…”

“None of this should’ve happened.” After dressing quickly, I grabbed my wand. “It was a bloody mistake.” I ran downstairs. Remus was nowhere in sight.

“Hey, Lily, you seen Remus?”

Lily turned to look at me, and I could tell she didn’t plan on being helpful.

“Just tell me which way he went.”

“Out the portrait hole.” She seemed to want to comment, but remembered her friends were nearby and averted her gaze.

I caught up with Remus soon after he entered the boy’s bathroom. He was bent over the sink, breathing heavily. Before I could speak, he said, “I didn’t know it was going to be like this. I thought he was straight.”

“Remus, he—”

“You really had me thinking that you…that we…I tried to do the whole casual thing, but I couldn’t. Well, in the end, you were just stringing me along. You’re an arsehole.”

I grabbed his arm and turned him around. “James is the arsehole. Do you know what he asked me to do?”

Remus wrenched his arm away, glaring furiously beyond me.

“He had—he had me be Lily, so he could practice.”

Remus looked at me, finally. “Like…sex practice?”

“Yeah. He bought some Polyjuice Potion and had me become her so he’d be ready for when they fucked. The sex wasn’t as good as I thought it’d be. I dunno what I expected. Anyhow, it wasn’t an even deal, so he threw in a hand job.”

Remus blinked rapidly. “You say it so casually, like this is what friends do. He clearly fancies you, and you play into it…”

“He doesn’t. He’s told me.”

“How do you know he’s not lying?”

“I can tell.”

Remus held me by my shoulders. “How, Sirius? How can you tell? You’re seeing what you want to see!”

_“And so are you._ Listen, why would he take me in Lily’s body? He wants _her_. He wants sex, and he wants a best mate, but he’s not gay.”

“What do you call that, then? You said he promised a hand job, but when I saw you…If you say you’re just friends, then why—”

“Remus, I love you.”

Remus looked around, face splotchy. It was the first time either of us had said it.

Finally, his eyes met mine again. “But you love James, too.”

“Of course I do! But I’m _in_ love with you. And look, if Prongs asks me to do something like this again, I’ll refuse, and have Wormtail handle it. Because I don’t want anything to come between us, or the Marauders.”

Remus squinted at me, skeptical. “But…for my sake, I can’t give all of myself to you if you don’t give all of yourself to me. I won’t be able to fully be with you when you’re with James, too.”

“I’m not _with_ James. My friendship with James is just that—friendship. Just because we express it differently than other people doesn’t mean it has to mean the same thing. A snog for James is like a hug for other best friends.”

Remus frowned. “Why?”

I thought for a moment. “Because they aren’t close to each other as he and I are, I don’t know, it just is.”

Remus sighed, breath shaking. “So you’re not going to change.”

I reached for his hand, knowing I could lose him if I didn’t say the right thing. “No, I will. I know I crossed a line.” I stepped closer. “We’ll be exclusive.”

“Like…boyfriends?”

“If that’s okay.”

Remus nodded, trying to hide any hint of a smile. “I’m still fucking pissed at you.”

I touched his cheek lightly, then kissed him. After I pulled away, still inches from his lips, I whispered, “I don’t want anyone to know. Besides Prongs, that is.”

“What about Peter?”

I leaned back, frowning. “No, he’s uncomfortable about these things. The main reason I want James to know is so we can set boundaries.”  


**31 July, 1977 10:18**

The heavy-set police officer could barely squeeze him stomach past the car, snapping the wing mirror with his arse on his way out.

“Get off the bike!” he yelled as we basked in the flashing blue lights.

Hands up, James and I stepped off.

“No helmets!” the other one yelled, pointing at our heads.

“Exceeding the speed limit by—by a considerable amount! Failing to stop for the police!” the first added.

“We’d have loved to stop for a chat,” said James, “only we were trying—”

“Don’t get smart—you two are in a heap of trouble!” snarled the cop. “Names!”

“Names?” I echoed. “Er—well, let’s see. There’s Wilberforce…Bathsheba…Elvendork…”

James smirked. “And what’s nice about that one is, you can use it for a boy or a girl.”

“Oh, _our_ names, did you mean?” I asked as the cop spluttered with rage. “You should’ve said! This here is James Potter, and I’m Sirius Black!”

“Things’ll be seriously black for you in a minute, you cheeky little—”

I froze. Rowle and his cousins had rounded the corner, flying straight at us. We drew our wands.

The policemen failed to make the connection. One said, “Drumsticks? Right pair of jokers, aren’t you? Right, we’re arresting you on a charge of—”

_“Integumentum!”_ we shouted. The police car flipped, shielding us. Rowle and his cousins were flying too fast; they slammed into the police car, brooms (and bones, no doubt) breaking on impact.

We hopped back onto the bike, and when one of the cops turned to look at us, I called over the throb of the engine, “Thanks very much! We owe you one!”

“Yeah, nice meeting you!” said James. “And don’t forget: Elvendork! It’s unisex!” He flicked his wand and the car flipped back upright.

I revved the engine and we took back off into the night.

**6 October, 1977 21:45**

Remus and I sat as close to each other as appeared casual. Our thighs brushed together, and whenever I laughed, I used him to support myself.

I studied James and Lily from across the room and realized their body language reflected ours. I averted my gaze just as James looked over. I nuzzled into the crook of Remus’ shoulder to see if I would make James jealous. When I glanced back over, I could tell he was annoyed.

A few days later, as we—the Slytherin and Gryffindor seventh-years—trudged back to the school from the greenhouses, we found James and Lily behind one of the sheds, snogging.

I realized, after a moment, that I had forgotten to breathe, my mouth agape. I caught myself and pressed my lips together once James met my gaze. Seeing the shock in my eyes, his excitement faded; it was the first time I’d seen them kiss, and he could tell my weak smirk masked what I was really feeling.

I followed Lily’s gaze and watched as Snivellus stormed off. I tried to read her expression, but it changed too quickly for me to place any one emotion—except, I realized, smugness. A seemingly absurd thought crossed my mind: what if she had meant for him to see them snogging?

**17 July, 1978 9:33**

I woke up to the sunlight. Pulling Remus’ arm off of me, I got out of bed, went to the loo, then returned to wake the others.

I poked James with my foot. “Stag party, tonight. Let’s get pissed. Wormtail’s working again, but we can get off our heads with just us.”

James rolled onto his back and stretched. “Sure. I want to enjoy my last night as a free man.”

Remus yawned. “Yeah, it’s gonna be tough, what with constant sex, working for the Order with your wife and your best friends…”

I rummaged through my things to find my Magically Automated Shaving Kit, then tapped the top of the box to set it to work. “How about London? We should use the Muggle money you have left over from last summer.” I glanced at Remus. “You up for it?”

Remus ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, why not?”

“Alright.” James went to his closet and started pulling clothes. “None of my trousers will fit you two, you’re too tall, especially you, Moony, but maybe something else…” He held up a black top, then tossed it to me.

Remus sat up and said, “What about my ‘Werewolves of London’ shirt?”

James grinned. “Perfect.” He pulled on jeans and a white shirt, then ruffled his hair and sat down, watching us change. “Isn’t it mad? I can’t believe I’m getting married tomorrow.”

Remus smirked. “To Lily, no less. Do you remember when you first told her you’d marry her?”

“Of course.” James leaned back.

I put away the shaving kit before surveying my features in the mirror. “I don’t remember.”

“You must’ve blocked it out.” James made eye contact with my reflection, trying to play off the implications of what he’d said with a smile. “Anyhow, I had asked her what she’d want to name our kids.”

Remus chuckled. “She said, ‘What makes you think we’re having kids?’”

“And I said, ‘If we’re going to marry each other, wouldn’t we have kids?’”

“And what she say to that?” I smiled, as though I could understand the fondness of the memory.

“She didn’t know what to say, it seemed. She told me to piss off.”

Remus glanced at me, catching the forced nature of my expression. “Not much has changed, then.”

That night, we Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, then headed out onto Charing Cross Road. After walking down a few blocks looking for a place to drink, we stopped in front of the London Astoria. Posters hung in the windows, reading: THE SUNDOWNER CLUB HOSTS: BANG! MONDAY NIGHT DISCO.

“What about here? Disco is about as Muggle as it can get.”

“Sure.”

We followed the signs to the basement, and as we neared, the music grew louder.

James opened the doors, and we immediately froze. There must’ve been a thousand people filling the low-lit club, dancing under colored spotlights. But what took us aback was the realization that the vast majority of people there were men.

“It’s a gay club,” James shouted over the blare of “ _San Francisco/You got me/You got me, baby…”_

“Yeah, no shit.” A significant portion of the men were shirtless, and some looked our way as we loitered by the entrance. I had trouble taking it all in.

James put his arms around our shoulders. “Well, what are we waiting for?”

I looked at Remus, who shrugged weakly before saying, “Let’s drink first.”

We took a couple shots at the bar before mixing into the crowd. It was an oddly elating, albeit overwhelming feeling to be surrounded by hundreds of men like me. I felt as though we were sharing the same experience; a chance to break away from what was accepted, from passing in the straight world as the contained, edited versions of ourselves we were limited to, to something more real. And horny.

After an hour, we were sweaty, giddy, and more physical than normal. I had to (as subtly as possible) diffuse my hard-on several times.

After taking his shirt off only a minute prior, James attracted a man closer, taken aback as the man began to dance in front of him.

“I’m straight,” James said, slurring his words a little.

“Sure, honey,” he replied, placing his hands at James’ waist.

“I’m getting married tomorrow,” James said, half to the man, half to himself.

The man raised his eyebrows. “Does your fiancé know you’re a poofer?”

James laughed, and turned around so the man could grind against him.

Remus’ tolerance for alcohol was higher than ours since he was a werewolf, but still, the alcohol managed to dissolve the insecurities he had about his scars. He didn’t seem to mind the attention the marks on his torso had drawn.

“Bear attack,” he explained loudly to a few men nearby. There were a few men at least thirty years older than us transfixed by him.

I was a little slow to react, but then anger swept over me. I stalked over to Remus. “Sod off!” I told them, dragging him over to join James.

As we reached James, a man—different from who he’d been dancing with—dropped a pill in his mouth.

“Fuck, James!” I grabbed his arm, but the bloke was already moving on.

James stumbled a bit. “What’s the big deal?”

Remus realized what I meant. “Prongs, he could’ve been a Death Eater.”

“What? At a gay club?” James doubled over, laughing.

I couldn’t keep myself from smiling. “You never know. Slytherins are into some kinky shite. Seriously though, they could’ve tracked us.”

James wiped tears from his eyes. “Fair enough.” He put his arms around my neck, grinning. “Forgive me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Course.”

“Okay. Let’s have another drink.” We each had another beer, and James took two more shots.

Grinning widely as the idea dawned on him, James put his arms around my shoulder. “C’mon, you two should find someone for a threesome.”

I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so…”

Remus watched my reaction, then shook his head.

I gaped at him. “If I’d said yes, you would’ve said yes?”

Remus nodded, then shook his head.

I was again astonished. “I said no because I thought…”

James groaned. “For Merlin’s sake, let’s get you two out there.”

As James pushed as along, I scanned the dance floor.

Remus stopped James and nudged me. “There.”

I followed his gaze. “What color hair?”

“Blonde.”

I squinted. “I’m fairly certain that’s a woman.”

Remus laughed. “I know, I’m just fucking with you. I don’t want a threesome.” He kissed me. “I want you.”

James made a show of rolling his eyes, exasperated. “You two are so dull.” He allowed himself to be pulled in toward the center of the dancing.

I turned my attention back to Remus. “Just me?” I repeated, studying him as I placed my hands on either side of his face. “I’m not as fit as some of these other blokes, though.”

Remus leaned closer to me. “I’m glad your self-esteem is so low.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it means you won’t go leaving me.”

“Oh, there are other reasons I don’t want anyone else,” I said, teasing my lips against his.

“Please, indulge me.”

“For one, I now know we can go to gay clubs together.”

“Mhm. And…?”

“And you know me better than anyone.”

“I hope those aren’t in order of importance.”

“Course not.”

There was a flicker of a moment when I saw Remus close his eyes before we kissed. Heat rushed through me—he wanted to block out the world quickly so the only sensation he’d feel was my body, my lips, my tongue.

** 3 December, 1979 18:57 **

"Is it because you think you'll fuck me?"

"Sirius…"

"I just want to make sure."

Remus' lip wobbled as he tried not to smile. "Of course not. Anyhow, I doubt I would, it's not as though we're the same species. You wouldn't even be a wolf."

"I'm joking, you know." I wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "It wouldn't _kill_ me, anyway. It'd just be, er, awkward to explain at St. Mungo's. 'My werewofl boyfriend hurt me when he transformed. You want to see the wound? Right now? Alright, I'll drop my trousers.'" Sensing Remus wanted me to be more solemn, I added, "I'm sorry you have to go through this."

Remus shrugged the apology off. "If not taking Wolfsbane for one transformation means Damocles can find out its long-term effects, then it's worth it."

"Once Damocles leaves, I'll be there."

It was agony to wait for the full moon to sink back beneath the horizon. I had meant to sleep, but found it impossibe. For the last three or so years, I'd been with Remus for his transformations. Damocles introduced a final trial of Wolfsbane after we graduated, which made it less necessary for me to comfort Remus, but it reassured me as much as it did him.

I was simultanteously thankful and frustrated that I couldn't hear Remus' howls; Damocles had cast protective enchantments on the barn. It was all that kept me from running after him.

Finally, the sky began to lighten. Damocles came from round the back of the barn and lifted the protective enchantments. I transformed into a dog, hidden in the bushes. We'd decided the less Damocles—or anyone, for that matter—knew about our living arrangement, the better. As far as Damocles knew, Remus didn't want help returning home only because of the secrecy of the Order, not because he was hiding a relationship.

As soon as Damocles Disapparated, I ran from my hiding place and into the barn. Remus lay curled up, naked except for a blanket, various potions placed around him with instructions written on slips of parchment.

I transformed back into a human and knelt at his side. “Hey.” I gently pulled the blanket back, then tried to hide the disgust from my face; deep cuts ran across Remus’ torso and thighs, and his body shone with sweat. “Alright, let’s get you healed.”

Remus tried to open his eyes.

“C’mon, you’re nineteen, you’re young and spry, you can handle a scratch or two.”

“Prick,” Remus groaned.

“We’ll have time for my prick later,” I replied as I searched for the right healing solution. “Let’s give this a go. Damocles wrote that it’s supposed to sting, which probably means it’ll hurt like hell.” I reached out and gripped Remus’ hand. “Here goes nothing.”

After a strained and tedious thirty minutes, Remus was nearly healed of physical injury. Mentally, though, he was unreadable, distant.

“Are you okay to Apparate?”

Remus nodded, and I, potions in my cloak pocket, took his arm and Disapparated.

I helped Remus into bed, then stripped and climbed in with him so we faced each other. He was still shivering.

I drew him to my chest, careful to avoid where he’d hurt himself. His breathing was warm on my neck, but the hand he rested on my chest was cold.

I tried not to cry. Remus was significantly taller than me, a better dueler, smarter, braver—but because of his damned disease, I had to be the one holding him. It felt suddenly like too much. How could I protect him and myself?

“This isn’t going to last, Sirius.”

I tightened my grip on him. He couldn’t have known what I was thinking, could he? “What do you mean?”

“I mean…once of us is going to be killed. Even if we do survive the War, this disease—the Lycanthropy—it’s going to kill me.”

I flushed, stubborn, wanting to take back what I’d thought. If we both saw our relationship as temporary bliss, what hope did we have? “We can’t think about that. Just—just sleep, and don’t think.” I pressed my lips to the top of his head. “I love you, okay?”

Remus exhaled slowly and nuzzled beneath my chin. “I love you, too.” 

**28 April, 1980 15:13**

“I got a letter from Fenrir. He’s calling on all werewolves to join You-Know-Who.”

I looked up. “What? Fucking hell, that’s bold of him.”

Remus studied the paper. “Well, it seems as though the letter’s been enchanted so only werewolves can read it. Look.”

I scanned the blank page quickly, sweat breaking out on my brow. “What’re you gonna do?”

He thought for a moment. “Tell the Order. But I won’t respond, obviously.”

“Obviously,” I echoed quietly, watching as he put the letter into his drawer. What he'd said, _this wouldn't last,_ suddenly rang in my ears, and I shuddered.

**1 August, 1980 7:29**

_Padfoot,_

_Lily had the baby! His name is Harry James Potter (I know, it’s a bit conceited) and he is healthy, thank god. You and Remus should stop by to see him this week. Let me know before you do, though, I don’t want to be covered in vomit or shit when you come over._

_James_

_P.S. It may be easier with the war to use the two-way mirror in case the Death Eaters come after us._

**29 October, 1980 15:10**

James explained everything: the prophecy, how he and Lily would go into hiding indefinitely, and the spell that was necessary to protect them. Once he had finished, he peeked at Harry, who had slept through our entire conversation, then looked at me. “You’ll be our secret keeper, then, Padfoot?”

“Of course. What about Moony?”

“You’re living together, I’m sure he won’t be offended.” James looked between me and Lily. “Alright, it’s settled.”

**23 July, 1981 19:46**

_Fenrir—_

_I’ve thought about your offer, and I want to help. The full moon is in a week, and I have a plan for targets—_

“So I was planning on taking a bath, you know, relieve the stress from today,” Remus said as he walked into the room. “If you’d like to join me, it’s big enough for the both of us.” Remus noticed what I was reading. “Sirius. Listen—”

“You’re working for him?”

“No! Of course not, he ruined my life, why would…? Christ, Sirius, it’s not what it looks like.”

“Then what the hell is it?”

Remus fidgeted. “I wanted to be a double agent. I thought I could do it, but—I was too much of a coward.” He searched me, frown deepening. “You don’t believe me.”

I tried to seem calm. “I believe you.” But I didn’t. I couldn’t. “How would Fenrir trust you, especially after what he did?”

“Exactly. That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to join him; I might’ve had to kill to prove myself, and that was unimaginable.” Remus took the letter from my numb fingers and put it back in the drawer, then wrapped his arms around me.

I drew a steadying breath. He couldn’t know that I suspected him, guilty or not. It would make sense, though, Remus turning against us. Ever since he got Fenrir’s letter, he’d been clingy, wanting sex or to cuddle whenever we had the time. He was trying to distract me, get closer to me. “How about that bath?” I said, holding him at arms’ length, forcing a smile.

Remus nodded, kissed me, and led me to the bathroom.

 


	7. Godric's Hollow

**24 July, 1981 17:08**

I explained to James and Lily what I’d seen at Remus’, and how he’d acted once I found him out.

Lily set down her tea. “I don’t know, Sirius. It sounds like he was telling the truth. Everything else you described just seems normal, considering.”

I bounced my knee, impatient. “But why wouldn’t he have told me? It only makes sense if he was hiding something.”

James shrugged, then hesitated before saying, “You still love him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. But we can’t risk being killed over that.”

James sighed. “Lily, what do you think?”

Lily chewed her lip. “Sirius knows him best. If he’s questioning things, then I’d say we should follow. I hate all this mistrust, too, but we have to think about Harry. Remus will understand.”

James rubbed his temple. “I dunno. Sirius, you don’t think this has anything to do with your relationship with him?”

I didn’t think it had. “No. It’s just that the chances he’s been recruited are very high. He could be under You-Know-Who’s influence.” I had the sense I was trying to sound more nonchalant and rational than I actually was.

“You think he’s capable of betraying us? Of spying on us?”

“Anyone’s capable.”

“But why would he?”

“He’s an undesirable, isn’t he? Being a werewolf and all? He can’t find work, he isn’t treated equally. I suppose he could see the war as a way to change that. It’s a stretch, but it’s there.”

James put his head in his hands. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Look, you know I’m not saying I believe it. Only that it’s a lot to risk your lives on. We’re not children anymore, things aren’t as simple as they used to be.”

James nodded. “Once this is all over, I just—I don’t want him to hate us.”

“I know.” I leaned forward and rested my chin on my clasped hands. “God, if this fucks everything up, I won’t be able to live with myself.”

**25 July, 1981 20:54**

“Remus, I think we should take a break.”

He looked up at me as though I’d slapped him. “What? Why?”

“We can’t afford distractions. You-Know-Who has to be killed before he kills James and Lily. If we waste—I mean, if we spend time on us, they could die.”

Remus patted the bed next to him, and I sat down. After a moment, he asked, “Are you sure that’s why? There’s not another reason? Is there…is there someone else?”

“No, of course not. There’s no one else.” I looked Remus in the eye, knowing I wouldn’t be able to lie. “It’s for the safety of Lily and James. Having any connection to You-Know-Who could put them in danger. Because you’re a werewolf—”

“You think I’ll betray you? _James_ thinks that?”

“No, I don’t. Neither does he, but…it’s better not to risk it.”

“So, you told him about the letter, which I said I decided not to respond to, and he agreed to cut me out of his life?”

“It’s only until the war is over. And you’re not out of the Order, just—the fewer people who know about him, the better.” Watching Remus shut down made me want to take it all back. I could see the cracks in our relationship spreading in his eyes.

Remus breathed in, slowly. I reached for his hand, but he shifted away from me, shaking a bit. “I’ve trusted you, Sirius, and I have just as much reason to suspect you for your family.”

I blinked. “But I’m not associated with them. I’ve hated them since—”

“Then you of all people should understand. I renounced those like me that have joined You-Know-Who, as you have renounced your family, so why treat me like my choices mean nothing?”

I avoided his gaze, throat burning with the effort to keep my composure. “It’s different because—well, because being with the werewolves after all society has done—perhaps you would feel a sense of belonging—”

“You obviously know nothing about how I feel.”

I flinched. Remus stared at me, expression cold and distant. Perhaps now I had made it easier for him to leave.

Remus stood. “I hope we both survive this. That it wasn’t for nothing. But if you’re not in this with me, then I can’t be more than friends.”

As he began to walk out, I rushed to catch up. “Wait, Remus, I still—I love you.”

Remus turned, glanced at my hand on his arm, then leaned and kissed me. Just as I began to taste salt on his lips, he pulled away. “Goodbye.”

**12 October, 1981 14:02**

I balanced a glass of whiskey in one hand, my two-way mirror in the other.

James went out of frame for a minute to grab a drink, then picked up the conversation where we’d left off, in hushed tones, apparently so Lily wouldn’t hear. “I can’t even remember the last time Lily and I had sex. You know, with the pregnancy and all.”

“That’s insane, mate.”

“Well, don’t feel bad for me, feel bad for her. She’s been missing out on this body.” James gestured to his bare torso and I laughed. “Seriously, though, can you help me set up something nice? And watch Harry for us?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The next day, I arrived at Godric’s Hollow. Lily greeted me at the door. “Sirius!” She air-kissed me on the cheek, then gestured to her lipstick to explain she didn’t want to get it on me. “Right, we’re heading out, we’ll be home around ten. Harry’s already tired, you can put him to bed now…oh, and his room is set up with, er, let’s see—a spell that will amplify if he’s crying, a spell that lets you know if his breathing is off, oh, and here,” she handed me a pacifier, “this will light up if he needs attention.” Lily noticed the groceries I’d brought. “Thank you. You’d think magic would make going into hiding easier, but not really…” She carried the bags into the kitchen, then handed me my payment.

I opened the envelope. “This is too much,” I said, counting it up, fifteen galleons in all, but Lily pretended not to hear in her scramble to get ready.

“James! C’mon, love, the spell goes back into effect in ten seconds!”

James sprinted out of the bathroom and pulled on his shoes. “Let’s go, then!”

They hurried to the door. Lily smirked, then ruffled James’ hair. “I lied. We had two minutes. But we couldn’t risk being missing it—see you soon, Sirius!”

“Padfoot, you’re brilliant, thank you!” James called, and the door closed behind them.

I was in awe of their mood. Cooped up in the same house for weeks on end…I would’ve been miserable.

After looking through the cupboards for some food, I checked on Harry, then went back downstairs and sat on the couch. Before long, I began to nod off…

When I awoke, the living room light was on, but dimmed. Were they back?

I turned around, then realized why I’d woken up; James had just stepped out of the bedroom. I’d been sleeping this whole time? I checked the clock on the wall; I’d slept for three hours.

James gestured to the bedroom. “Do you want to join us?”

I blinked. “What?”

“You think I asked you to come over just to babysit?” James approached me, voice low. “We wouldn’t risk leaving Harry alone just so we could get out of the house.”

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, still confused.

James offered his hand, then helped me get to my feet. His serious facade cracked a bit and he said, “A threesome, Padfoot.”

My heart pounded. “How’d you suppose that would work? I’m not into girls and you’re not into blokes.”

James, always a good salesman, grinned. “Funny you should mention that.” He held up a purple bottle. “Temporary resexing pills. We’ll all switch between male and female. Very expensive and difficult to find, but if you know where to go they don’t have side effects and they’ll adjust to sexuality. And, let me remind you, I’m attracted to—” James gestured to every part of my body except my dick. “most of you. So what d’you say?”

To answer, I took the bottle from him and swallowed a pill.

James smiled again and led me into the bedroom.

Lily sat on the bed, wearing one of James’ shirts and a pair of his pants. “Hi, boys.” She looked between us, mouth parted slightly. “Kiss for me.”

James turned around and placed his hands on either side of my face, pulling me into a kiss. I moved my hands to his waist and his shoulder, and we inched closer to the foot of the bed. At first I was ashamed at how easily desire came to me, how I knew he wanted women, but he was here, choosing to kiss me, wanting me above all rational thought.

James pulled off my shirt, I pulled off his, and he pushed me onto the mattress. His mouth trailed down my stomach, which was no longer flat and slightly muscular, but soft, feminine. He tugged off my trousers and kissed the inside of my thighs, hands gripping my hips. His tongue glided over me as Lily—now in a man’s body—kissed my lips. She rested a hand on my chest, chuckling a bit as I moaned, as though reacting to my surprise that James was—

“Fuck…” I managed, arching my back, spreading my legs wider. Lily’s coarse red hair brushed my shoulder as she leaned over me and kissed my breast, tongue flicking over my nipple, hands tugging on my sides to pull James into me. My breathing quickened, and my entire body prickled with anticipation until I finally crested into sparks. James sat up, licking his lips, grinning at me, then glanced at Lily. His body began to change, and by the time he was a woman, Lily had reached him, back in her usual form, kissing him almost feverishly.

As she went down on him, James locked eyes with me. His features were softer, exaggerated, and there was almost theatrical nature to his pleasure. In my male form, I reached down and slowly began to move my hand along my cock, holding his gaze. James moaned, face flushed. He lay back on the bed, Lily clasping his now smooth thighs as leverage, and closed his eyes, which caused him to change back into a man’s body.

Lily leaned back and gestured for me to take over. Still touching myself with one hand, I took James in my mouth, and he rose into me, trembling with the urge to thrust.

“It’s too much…Fuck, Lily, I can’t…” he said to me, voice hoarse. I wanted to come then, so I stopped touching myself and instead traced the inside of James’ thigh, replacing my mouth with one hand as I moved lower, tongue exploring every inch of his skin.

And just before James opened his eyes, Lily had replaced me, strap-on secured around her waist. James grinned, chest ruddy, as she opened a bottle of lube, running it along the length of the toy, then inside him. James gestured to me, hand draped casually on his lips. I crossed the bed to him, heart racing. He was so beautiful, lying there naked, radiating with desire. We kissed, fumbling and desperate, as though we hadn’t kissed before. He moaned into my mouth as Lily began to move, slowly, one hand reaching to pull me closer toward him, our lips numb from the force of each other.

“I want you,” James said, and I couldn’t tell if he was speaking to me or Lily. When I hesitated, he said through gritted teeth and uneven breath, “For Christ’s sake, Sirius—fuck, I—want you…”

I half-choked, half-gasped in surprise. Lily was already pulling out, and as she took off her strap-on, she turned into a man again. She moved slightly back on the bed, sitting up, legs out in front of her, and gestured for me to take over. I was numb, my entire body consumed with either ice or fire. I hadn’t felt as though I were betraying Remus before, but now…It used to be easier. James wasn’t fully into blokes, not like Remus, and we had used that as a boundary. It was how I knew it would never work out between me and James.

But I wanted him. I wanted to come inside James, to get revenge for his using me in sixth year. We came together. Lily finished herself, watching us moving in rhythm with each other. And that night, we lay together as three, James in the middle, a sleepy and satisfied smile frozen in his features. And I hated how I had thought I wanted this for so long, when I could’ve realized it was Remus I wanted.

**31 October, 1981 21:20**

I walked over to my desk and glanced down at the two-way mirror. It was black. Blacker than what I’d imagine to be normal, especially when the earliest James ever went to bed was eleven. “Prongs.” I waited a minute, but there was no reply. “James.” Still nothing.

I noticed there were tiny pricks of light in the black, as though it was showing the night sky. I broke out into a sweat. I told myself it didn’t mean anything. I’d check in with Peter, make sure everything was okay…

I Apparated to Peter’s hiding spot, a little cabin in Coombland Wood, near Exeton. The door wasn’t properly protected, so I drew my wand and burst in, expecting Voldemort, or a Death Eater—

The house was empty. Peter was gone. There was no sign of a struggle, no sign that he’d been forced out…But he was explicitly forbidden to leave. Why would he leave now?

I took a breath. There had to be some explanation. I mounted my motorbike and sped to Godric’s Hollow, stomach sinking.

I knew what had happened as soon as I found I was able to fly in to Godric’s Hollow with total disregard to the Fidelius Charm. The only way for the charm to break and for Voldemort to know where the Potters lived was if Peter had voluntarily told him.

The roof of the Potter house had been blown almost entirely off; that explained the night sky in the mirror. I parked the bike on the pavement and, finding the door already open, ran inside.

By the fight they seemed to have put up, I had to wonder, maybe they escaped. Maybe they survived. Maybe—

My thoughts cut short. My body became numb as I stared at James’ corpse. My mind rationalized it was just a trick of the light. I approached, my mind only saying it was curious, that it didn’t yet understand, and needed to understand—until I saw his empty eyes.

“No,” I heard myself say. I bent down at his side. “No…” I repeated. I touched my fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse, but there was nothing.

I heard Harry crying upstairs, but didn’t register it at first.

James couldn’t be dead. He was too strong, too alive, too young to be killed so needlessly. I cradled his face, my tears dropping onto his cheeks. “I loved you, goddammit.” I pressed my forehead to his, then kissed him. But I instantly regretted it; Lily should’ve been the last to kiss him, not me.

I forced myself to my feet. “Lily? Are you okay?” Hearing nothing, I made my way shakily up the stairs.

I pushed open the door. Harry was whimpering, but of course he couldn’t tell what had happened to James. Where was Lily—?

She was dead, too. Body as lifeless as James’; too still, lacking the peacefulness of sleep. She had died thinking Harry would be killed, that the last year had been for nothing.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I had no one left, and it was all my fault. I insisted they change Secret-Keepers, I insisted Remus stay away…

I went to the crib and picked up Harry. His face wobbled when he saw my expression, so I tried my best to smile. “How did you survive, Harry?” I studied the scar on his forehead.

Harry started to cry, so I held him closer and bounced him. “He was supposed to kill you. If he couldn’t kill you, it has to mean…” _Voldemort was dead._

“How did he die, Harry?” I said, voice still light, but urgent. “Do you know what I should do? What should I do, they’re dead, Peter killed them…”

Hagrid burst through the door, then stopped upon seeing me. “Sirius?” Tears streamed from his eyes into his beard.

“Voldemort killed them. Harry survived. I’m gonna take Harry, get him somewhere safe. As his godfather—”

“I’m under Dumbledore’s orders to send Harry to Lily’s sister.”

I shook my head, the shock preventing me from reacting much. “But Petunia is awful. She and Lily weren’t in touch. Look, I can—” and then it struck me. I couldn’t take Harry if I wanted to hunt down Peter. “Okay. Fine. Just—do you know if I’ll be able to see him?” I felt myself crack. “I can’t lose him, too.”

“Ah, don’ cry, now. C’mere. You’ll see him again.” Hagrid opened his arms, and I entered them despite knowing I’d be nearly crushed to death. I didn’t care.

When he let me go, I collected myself. “Take my motorbike. I’ll make it big enough for you.” I’d kill Peter, then take Harry back. The Dursley’s wouldn’t want him, anyway.

“Where’re you goin’?” Hagrid pulled a handkerchief out of his coat.

“Something I have to do. I’ll see you tomorrow to—to coordinate the funeral, or whatever we need to do next.”

Hagrid nodded listlessly, and I ran back down the stairs.

I stopped before leaving out the door to look at James. I let fury build up, whirling inside me, then stormed out. With a flick of my wand, I engorged the motorbike, then Disapparated.

I went back to Peter’s hiding place with the intention of getting one of his things to track him, but found he had stupidly returned.

“Peter, you—” I started in his direction.

Peter whipped around. _“Protego! Stupefy!”_

I was flung backward.

“No one can know they switched Secret-Keepers. And as you’re the only one who knows, I have to kill you.”

_“YOU BLOODY CUNT!”_ I lunged after him, but he Disapparated. I heard the second crack farther down the path and Disapparated as close I could to that spot. We kept up like this until we reached a nearby town.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, PETER?” I couldn’t see him; he must’ve transformed. “You sold them out, you _MOTHERFUCKING_ _TRAITOR_! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY, YOU _COWARD_ , YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT, YOU BLOODY TWAT, YOU—!”

I stopped as Peter cut off his finger, threw it to the side, and ran into the street. _“It’s your fault! You killed the Potters! You betrayed James and Lily Potter!”_ he shouted, face bloodless, voice shaking. He was cradling his hand.

“What the fuck do you—” I started to step into the street to cross.

“GET AWAY! HELP! HELP!”

And the street exploded.

I was almost knocked unconscious, but was just out of reach of the worst of the blast. After a moment of lying in pain on the cement, I got shakily to my feet. “What the hell…?”

I stared at the dead body of the woman in front of me. Hot fury poured through me. He couldn’t have just killed innocent people. He wasn’t a monster.

I ran through the rubble, drowning out the screams of Muggles around me, desperate to catch him. “Fuck.” I ran my hands though my hair, the dam of shock in my mind threatening to give into panic.

I saw the rest of the bodies and snapped. I started to laugh. Tears ran down down my face, but I was laughing. It was—it was absurd. Unthinkable. Peter killed James and Lily…and I didn’t have the pleasure of avenging them…

I was laughing when the Department of Magical Law Enforcement arrived on the scene. Peter had brought James and Lily down, and I was going down with them…

Thanks to the nearby Muggles’ statements of what Peter had said, I was sentenced to life in Azkaban without trial by the following morning.

As two guards moved me from my temporary cell, I went hoarse with yelling. “IT WAS PETER PETTIGREW! HE KILLED THEM, NOT ME! I’M INNOCENT! HE SOLD OUT JAMES AND LILY!”

_“Silencio!”_ The guard shouted, and I nearly choked with the force of the gag. 

I still showed my resistance, but was forced to cooperate as the guards pulled me onto the boat. Resist too hard and I was mad, resist too little and I was guilty. Yes, a part of me blamed myself, but the larger part wanted to go back in time and snap Peter’s neck. The only consolation I had was that Peter was dead, that he paid for his betrayal.

My cell was, like every other cell in Azkaban, small, dark, isolated, and cold. After the guards locked me in my cell, I could feel the depression seeping in. The War might’ve been over, but I wasn’t there to pick up the pieces. What became of Harry? And Remus? I might never see them again, whoever died first, and they would think I killed James and Lily. 

I imagined Remus’ reaction when he found out about each part of the events—ending with my imprisonment. Eventually, though, I couldn’t feel sorry for him anymore. My life had to be worse than his. He was free to live his life, I was in prison to rot. Had I deserved this? I’d decided Remus was guilty, so the Ministry had decided I was guilty. It was fair, perhaps.

Somedays I was so sick with anxiety I vomited, and had to be left with the smell until guards came back later that week. On most days, though, I curled in my cell and tried to sleep, unaware of how much time passed. I forced the memories of James and Lily down, especially of the night of the pills. We’d been so immature, so naive, to fuck each other. It made things too complicated.

By picking up on the guards’ conversations, only a few words each week, I had a sense of the years passing. I eventually grew past the point of reacting to mistreatment, of the outside world; I had died. At least, I was dead to anyone on the outside, and my senses had dulled to the point where I could no longer feel pain. I was all consciousness, and emotion, and I had reworked the events leading up to my imprisonment to the point that they were unrecognizable.

On good days, when the dementors grew bored of feeding on my energy, I fantasized about seeing Remus again. In my dreams, he brought me back from the edge, believed that I was innocent…and while inevitably we fucked, I spent more time thinking about what it would be like to be held by him again. I thought about him appearing at my cell and wrapping his arms around me, warm and full of love and life, flesh real and—mine.

The dementors always came back at the peak of my pleasant dreams to suck the energy away. I would curse at them to leave me alone, let me have the moment to myself, but it seemed to make them crowd in higher numbers.

Eventually, I thought I had to be actually dying, withering away slowly from the inside out. Others went mad in Azkaban, while I focused on my innocence. Others wanted to die, while I knew I had to stay alive to wait for justice. How I would get justice, I didn’t know.

Until Fudge dropped in for a visit. He left me the day’s newspaper, the first news I’d received in—

I read the date. _23 July, 1993._

_1993._ I was too dehydrated to cry; the best I could manage was a wheeze. How could it have been twelve years? _Twelve years in this damn prison. Twelve years, a third of my life, spent rotting in a cell…_

I read every word of the paper, soaking in every detail, comparing my ideas on how society had become with the reality. There was scant mention of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. 

I even read the seemingly mundane articles:

_MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE_

_Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, “We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank.” The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend._

I noticed something on the shoulder of one of the boys. A rat. I leaned in to see the picture more clearly. Something was off…the rat, in the picture: it was faint, but I could tell: the rat was missing a toe on its front paw.

My mind rushed to the memory of Peter cutting off his finger and laughed. So there he was, in the bloody paper, in _Egypt_ , of all places. Well, it’d be the last holiday he’d live to see. _I am going to kill that son of a bitch._ He would finally pay for what he’d done, know that I knew where he was. One of the Weasleys would no doubt bring him to Hogwarts.

I starved myself over the course of the week until I knew I would be thin enough to slip past the dementors. When they opened my cell to deliver my food and get a little energy in return, I transformed into my Animagus form and slipped, undetected, past them.

I couldn’t keep my balance or focus as I hurried down the stairs as a dog. Not only had it been years since I’d been on stairs, I was running on only a few bites of bread from the day before. At the ground floor, I gagged, but nothing came up.

I had to find a wand. If I could just find a wand and Apparate to land…But there weren’t any wands, I knew that, it was too dangerous to have them anywhere within the reach of the prisoners.

There had to be a Muggle-warding spell surrounding the island. Maybe the range of an hour’s swim? After that, I had to count on a ship passing through.

I pushed the door of the prison open, a difficult task due to my Animagus form and malnourishment.

I turned back into a human and looked up to the night sky for the North Star. My time in Azkaban seemed the blink of an eye compared to the time I spent swimming, arms circling endlessly, struggling to keep my head above the waves, to not drink the water around me, and especially not to stop. When the wind calmed down in the hours before the morning, I just closed my eyes and floated.

I awoke to the sounds of a motor. In surprise, I flipped onto my stomach, taking in a mouthful of water, before I regained my senses enough to look around.

A boat was passing, just a couple hundred meters away.

I transformed back into a dog and barked as loud I could. Water splashed into my mouth, down my throat, but I kept it up, desperate.

After I began to fear they’d never see me, they started in my direction. What would’ve taken me ten minutes to cross took them ten seconds.

“It’s a bloody dog!” one of the men said as he laid a net across the side of the boat for me to climb. Once I was in, I shook out my fur, then sat, shivering.

“Jesus, what’s he doing out here? He’s starving, look at the bones stickin’ out of his side, he’s like a bloody skeleton! Frank, d’you have anything for lunch we could give him?”

“Give him as much as he wants, let’s look around, see if anyone else is stranded, then head back to the docks. I’m sure the paper’ll want to hear what happened.”

“Why don’t you keep him? You’ve got kids, and look, he’s nice. Thatta boy, have a sandwich…I reckon he hasn’t had summin to eat in days.”

One of the other sailors fetched his canteen and streamed water into my parched mouth. After they searched for an hour with no luck and decided to take me back, I tried to seem cold so they wouldn’t want to keep me. I had to keep moving, and I couldn’t stop to be pampered. Besides, whenever they patted me, I couldn’t help feeling a surge of alarm. I hadn’t been touched in over a decade.

“It’s odd, there weren’t a storm or nothin’, not since over a week ago, you don’t suppose he’s been out that long?”

“Can’t have. He’d have to’ve been swimmin’ that whole time, nothin’ to drink or eat…”

As they tried to work out the circumstances of my survival, I planned what I would do next. I couldn’t go to Remus, though I wanted him to understand, understand what had really happened with James and Lily, that he had every reason to hate me, just not because I killed them, he couldn’t think that anymore…But I’d only be putting both of us in danger. More truthfully, I didn’t want him to reject me like I rejected him all those years ago.

 

 


	8. Different Now

**28 July, 1993 14:38**

I had to find a way to research what had happened following the war. More than that, I needed a wand. By thieving as a dog, I’d accrued twelve galleons. In my Animagus form, I approached a homeless witch outside Diagon Alley with a shopping list: old newspapers, and a wand of dragon heartstring, cypress, measuring around nine inches.

The witch returned later that evening, eying me carefully before handing over the goods. Once I was satisfied she’d completed the job, I gave her the entirety of my funds and trotted away, bag clamped in my jaws. I found an abandoned building a few blocks down from the Leaky Cauldron and made temporary camp, now able to put various protection spells in place around me to ward off anyone who might be looking for me.

I spent an hour napping before I roused myself and began to read. After sifting through the newspaper, the earliest the witch had managed to find was from two years ago; a special wide-release edition of the _Daily Prophet_ that commemorated the tenth anniversary of Voldemort’s fall.

It was obvious, as I skimmed through, that fear was present in post-war society as much as relief. There was a cynical edge to any aspect of the news. Perhaps I wouldn’t have noticed, if I’d regularly read the paper since the war ended, as the change would’ve been gradual. Apart from the commemorative issue, Voldemort (or “You-Know-Who,” as the paper referred to him, though the Taboo curse could hardly do anything now) was rarely mentioned. The _Bad News_ section was frivolous, almost forced, as though the writers struggled to find anything unfavorable to cover. While _Good News_ might celebrate ongoing economic growth in Britain, _Bad News_ constituted an escaped dragon in Romania.

My best resource was the newspaper from two years ago. I could at least glean something useful about what I’d missed over the past twelve years.

There was an article that highlighted the courage of twenty witches and wizards from the war. Most, I knew about from before Voldemort’s death: Alice and Frank Longbottom, Lily and James Potter, Gideon and Fabian Prewett.… There was one, however, that surprised me.

_Raven Faralyn_. There was a small picture of her, and the memories came back; she was a pureblood, close friends with Regulus, and most importantly, the girl Remus snogged in our sixth year to get back at me. A small part of me was glad she was no longer competition. Mildly interested, I skimmed through the section on her.

_“Rejected the Dark Arts…started home for witches and wizards on the run from You-Know-Who…last remaining members of her family imprisoned…”_

She was the last out of the twenty to have died. Killed later in the year, after James and Lily.

A thought struck me. If she was good in the end, then why be friends with Regulus? Or, more appropriately, why would he be friends with her if he was on his way to becoming a Death Eater?

I put the mystery aside and turned the page.

_New Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts._

I nearly choked. Remus. He was allowed to teach? Dumbledore knew of his condition, perhaps he let him work there…he’d be a fantastic professor. I ran by finger across the picture of him. By the grimace in his expression, he undoubtedly was unused to taking pictures. I kept my gaze on the picture, waiting with bated breath, praying to Merlin he would move his left hand so I could see.

After several minutes, Remus raised his left hand to run a hand through his hair. I exhaled, stomach light. He wasn’t wearing a ring. I imagined him hearing of my escape, once it was known, and what he’d feel. For now, he would hate me, thinking I killed Peter, assuming I killed James and Lily. Killing Peter would at least make me feel better, even if Remus never believed me.

**6 August, 1993 19:12**

There he was. James and Lily’s son, in the flesh. He looked—his silhouette, at least—like James; short, thin, hair a dark mop.

He had his suitcase. What was wrong? Why was he leaving? I wasn’t yet sure if I should get closer, so I remained hulked between a garage and a fence.

And then he realized someone was watching him, looking around wildly. I tensed, ready to move, when Harry illuminated his wand and shone it in my direction.

He stumbled back in surprise, wand flying out of his hand as he fell onto the pavement.

I was about to step forward to help when, with a bang, the Knight bus hurtled into view. As Harry boarded, I knew then that I wouldn’t be meeting him until I caught up at Hogwarts. My patience was wearing thin, despite years of waiting. I couldn’t be idle for long.

**6 June, 1994 19:28**

I bounded toward the three again—there was no way they’d follow me willingly—and hit Harry in the chest. If I could drag one of them down…

Counting on him to hang onto Peter, I chose the Weasley boy, leaving the others in pursuit.

 

When we reached the Shrieking Shack, I left Weasley to cower in the corner as I transformed back to my human self. Ignoring the whimpers from the boy, I stretched, finally out of my Animagus form. The room was just as I remembered; disorderedly, dusty, paper peeling from the walls. A twinge in my heart cut through my fury as I surveyed the broken furniture. _Remus._

I heard Harry and the girl downstairs. So Harry hadn’t quite inherited his father’s aptitude for stealth. I shifted so they could hear I was upstairs, and waited.

Weasley continued to moan, too absorbed in his pain to say anything to me.

Harry and his friend ran into the room, rushing to Ron’s side. “Ron—are you okay?”

“Where’s the dog?”

“Not a dog,” Ron moaned, teeth gritted with pain. “Harry, it’s a trap—”

“What—”

“He’s the dog…he’s an Animagus.”

Harry turned to follow Ron’s gaze, and I closed the door. Before they could get over their shock, I disarmed them.

I was taken aback by the hatred in Harry’s eyes. With limited exposure to human expression in over a decade, emotion seemed exaggerated in his features. And his striking resemblance to James made it hard to breathe. “I thought you’d come and help your friend. Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I’m grateful…it will make everything much easier…” Talking was difficult, I didn’t remember how to piece everything together.

Harry’s eyes blazed, and he started toward me, but his friends held him back. “No, Harry!”

Ron glared at me, now standing. “If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!”

I flinched. The idea was offensive to me after everything I’d done—or tried to do—to protect him. “Lie down,” I told Ron. “You will damage that leg even more.”

Ron refused. “Did you hear me? You’ll have to kill all three of us!”

“There’ll be only one murder here tonight,” I said, and my mouth split into a grin.

Harry tried to lunge at me again. “Why’s that? Didn’t care last time, did you? Didn’t mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew…What’s the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?”

The girl teared up. “Harry! Be quiet!”

“He killed my mum and dad!” Harry broke away and grabbed my wrist, forcing the wands away, pushing us into the wall. I struggled, trying to get away, but Harry was punching me…Finally, I got a grip on Harry’s throat, and then they were all attacking me—

The cat joined in, clawing into Harry, but it didn’t help, he had a wand—

“Get out of the way!”

Harry advanced on me, but his anger was too shallow, impulsive.

“Going to kill me, Harry?” I whispered, ignoring my bleeding nose.

“You killed my parents.” Harry kept his wand steady.

I stared up at him. _If he knew, did everyone know?_ “I don’t deny it. But if you knew the whole story…”

“The whole story? You sold them to Voldemort. That’s all I need to know.”

_How did he find out about that?_ “You’ve got to listen to me. You’ll regret it if you don’t…You don’t understand…”

“I understand a lot better than you think.” Harry’s voice shook. “You never heard her, did you? My mum…trying to stop Voldemort killing me…and you did that…you did it…”

Before either of us could say another word, the cat leapt onto my chest and settled right over my heart. “Get off,” I told him, but he wouldn’t budge, instead staring up at Harry.

Harry didn’t seem to care. He raised the wand. Did he know the Killing Curse? What spell did he intend on using? James didn’t have it in him to kill, would Harry?

Muffled footsteps echoed up through the floor—someone was moving downstairs.

“WE’RE UP HERE!” Hermione screamed. “WE’RE UP HERE—SIRIUS  
BLACK—QUICK!”

The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks. Remus ran in, his face bloodless, wand raised. He looked over the scene, and then finally to me. He looked too many years older, hair gray, features heavy with weariness. His eyes quickly flicked up and down, and a prickle of shame at my appearance found its way into my mind. And then more importantly—was their hate in his eyes?

_“Expelliarmus!”_ Remus shouted.

Harry’s wand flew once more out of his hand; so did the two Hermione was holding. Remus caught them, but kept his eyes on me. “Where is he, Sirius?”

_He knew about Peter._ I looked at the rat Ron held, then pointed at it.

“But then…”

The hunger I had felt for Harry and for Peter’s death was almost surpassed for my hunger for Remus. I realized, as Remus struggled to put the pieces together, that he had the energy to be in shock. For once in our lives, he was more animated in his movements than me.

“…Why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless—unless he was the one…unless you switched…without telling me?”

I nodded. _Thank God._

“Professor,” Harry said, annoyed, “what’s going on—?”

Remus lowered his wand, gaze fixed on me. He approached me, seized my hand, pulled me to my feet, and embraced me. Everything, our past together, rushed back to my senses, and I soaked him in. Something about knowing we would kill together—finally have revenge, justice together—made our reunion even more meaningful. If he was willing to do this with me, then perhaps he forgave me for betraying him.

“I don’t believe it!” The girl was pale.

Remus broke the hug, but kept hold of my arm.

The girl’s expression turned into disgust. “You—you—”

“Hermione—”

“—you and him!”

“Hermione, calm down—”

“I didn’t tell anyone! I’ve been covering up for you—”

Remus let go of me, imploring her. “Hermione, listen to me, please. I can explain—”

Harry, too, turned on Remus. “I trusted you, and all the time you’ve been his friend!”

“You’re wrong,” Remus said, glancing at me. “I haven’t been Sirius’ friend, but I am now—Let me explain…”

_“No!”_ The girl—Hermione—lost it again. “Harry, don’t trust him, he’s been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too—he’s a werewolf!"

Everyone fell silent and turned to Remus.

“Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione,” he said. Christ, he was calm. “Only one out of three, I’m afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don’t want Harry dead. But I won’t deny that I am a werewolf.”

Ron tried to stand, but whimpered in pain—Remus made toward him, but Ron said, “Get away from me, werewolf!”

I watched Remus’ face. I’d forgotten the stigmatism around his status, but it was clear in the way Remus’ face contorted. He then looked to Hermione and asked, “How long have you known?”

“Ages. Since I did Professor Snape’s essay…”

At the mention of Snape, I stifled a growl. Remus replied before I could ask what Hermione meant by “Professor.”

“He’ll be delighted,” said Remus. “He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant…Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?”

“Both.”

Remus forced a laugh. “You’re the cleverest witch of your age I’ve ever met, Hermione.”

“I’m not. If I’d been a bit cleverer, I’d have told everyone what you are!”

“But they already know,” Remus said. “At least, the staff do.”

Ron gasped. “Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf. Is he mad?”

“Some of the staff thought so. He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I’m trustworthy—”

Harry boiled over again. _“And he was wrong! You’ve been helping him all this time!”_ He pointed at me.

I crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it. Crookshanks leapt beside me and stepped onto my lap, purring. _Children_. This was taking much longer than it should. I fell into my thoughts. As Remus returned their wands, I imagined wringing Peter’s neck until it was thin and contorted, his lifeless head flopping around as we carried him burn his body…

“…the Marauder’s Map. I was in my office examining it—”

“You know how to work it?”

Remus waved his question away with impatience. “Of course I know how to work it. I helped write it. I’m Moony—that was my friends’ nickname for me at school.”

“You wrote—?”

“The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn’t I? You might have been wearing your father’s old cloak, Harry—”

“How d’you know about the cloak?”

“The number of times I saw James disappearing under it…”

I glanced at Harry. Funny how both of them were drawn to the same activity, sneaking around after hours. If Remus had seen James disappear under the cloak five hundred times, I could count a thousand. And what about Peter? Had it meant anything? It had to be not only cowardice but jealousy that drove him to betray James…

“…what’s Scabbers got to do with it?”

I glanced up. Finally, getting to the point.

“Everything,” Remus said. “Could I see him, please?”

Peter thrashed as Ron pulled him out. “What? What’s my rat got to do with anything?”

I glared at Peter. “That’s not a rat.”

“What d’you mean—of course he’s a rat—”

“No, he’s not,” Remus said quietly. “He’s a wizard.”

“An Animagus,” I said, “by the name of Peter Pettigrew.”

Silence. And then—

“You’re both mental.”

“Ridiculous!”

“Peter Pettrigrew’s dead! He killed him twelve years ago!” Harry pointed at me.

I bared my teeth. “I meant to, but little Peter got the better of me…not this time, though!” I lunged at Peter, but Remus grabbed me and tried to pull me back.

“Sirius, no! Wait! You can’t do it just like that—they need to understand—we’ve got to explain—”

I had waited too long. “We can explain afterwards!”

Remus threw himself around me so I couldn’t lift my arms. “They’ve—got—a—right—to—know—everything! Ron’s kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don’t understand, and Harry—you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!”

I stopped. As much as it pained me, I agreed, not taking my eyes off Peter. “Alright, then. Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…”

Remus explained his story, from becoming a werewolf to our adventures with James, and how he suspected me.

Then his face hardened. “All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me…and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using Dark Arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it…so, in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.”

“Snape?” My insides turned to ice at the mere mention of Snivellus. “What’s Snape got to do with it?”

“He’s here, Sirius.” Remus seemed impatient with my disgust. “He’s teaching here as well.” He looked up at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons…you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me—”

I scoffed. Sure, if it could be called a trick. But they couldn’t know the full reason. “It served him right. Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to…hoping he could get us expelled…”

Remus looked at the children. “Severus was very interested in where I went every month. We were in the same year, you know, and we—er—didn’t like each other very much. He especially disliked James.” Remus searched for a way to put it simply, to move on from the point— “Jealous, I think, of James’s talent on the Quidditch field… Anyway, Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be—er—”

Get on with the lie, I willed him.

“…amusing to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he’d be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it—if he’d got as far as this  
house, he’d have met a fully grown werewolf—but your father, who’d heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life…Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that  
time on he knew what I was…”

“So that’s why Snape doesn’t like you,” said Harry slowly, “because he thought you were in on the joke?”

“That’s right.” Snape pulled off the invisibility cloak, wand pointed directly at Remus.

Snape, at no surprise to me, was too caught up in his ego to listen to the truth. After he attacked Remus, Harry knocked him out cold. It was an accident, but still I could hardly hide my glee under my gentle scolding. “You shouldn’t have done that. You should have left him to me…”

“We attacked a teacher…We attacked a teacher…” Hermione stared at Snape.

I wondered how Snape had become a teacher. Surely Dumbledore knew of his involvement in the Dark Arts, or at least that he was a greasy-haired prick.

Hermione wrung her hands. “Oh, we’re going to be in so much trouble—”

Remus struggled against the bonds Snape had cast around him. I bent down and untied him. Remus watched my fingers, as though I weren’t there—he was absorbed in the movement of my hands. When I finished, Remus straightened up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had cut into them.

I explained to everyone how I discovered Peter in the paper, how this “Scabbers” fit into the puzzle. Hermione was the first to believe my innocence, and then—

_“That’s not true!”_ A switch had flipped and Harry was furious again. _“He was their Secret-Keeper! He said so before you turned up. He said he killed them!”_

I shook my head, and I knew they’d be able to see the shine in my eyes. “Harry…I as good as killed them. I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me…I’m to blame, I know it…The night they died—” I didn’t want to bring up the two-way mirror, it was too personal, so I altered the story quickly. “…I’d arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he’d gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn’t feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents’ house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies…I realized what Peter must’ve done…what I’d done…” My voice broke and I turned away.

“Enough of this.”

I felt Remus’ eyes on me. I could hear the steeliness in his voice, and I knew he thought the same thing; if I hadn’t mistrusted him, this wouldn’t have happened. I had projected my own guilt and disloyalty onto Remus, blaming him instead of myself. I’d had twelve years to realize this. Remus had no idea how much I hated myself, how many hours I’d spent laboring over the same thoughts.

Remus’ gaze slid over to the others. “There’s one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat.”

“What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?”

“Force him to show himself. If he really is a rat, it won’t hurt him.”

Ron hesitated, then handed Peter over.

I retrieved Snape’s wand, then stood beside Remus.

Remus glanced back at me. “Ready, Sirius?”

“Together?” I said quietly, letting rage overcome my sorrow.

“I think so…” Remus held Scabbers up. “On the count of three. One—two—three!”

I’d had every intention of killing Peter. There was little else I wanted more than to see his body mangled and empty.

But after the truth was revealed, Harry insisted in leaving Peter to the dementors, proving my innocence. Harry proved himself to be his father’s son.

**2 July, 1994 18:04**

Because Peter escaped, I remained suspected of killing Peter and a number of Muggles. which forced Harry and I apart. Despite the distance we would be forced to endure, and Peter’s untimely getaway, I was better off as a wanted man than in Azkaban.

I knew I had to leave Europe. Perhaps things would die down. But I couldn’t put anyone’s life in danger. I expected to leave without having to say goodbye, until I received a letter from Remus—

_June 30th, 1974_

_I expect you wish to disappear for a while. It’s easier, I’d think. At least before you go—I’m staying in London at the moment. Stop by July 2nd, the address and room number is on the back of the note._

_— Remus_

I flipped the note over, then looked at Buckbeak. “You okay if I leave you here? It’s only for…” I stopped. I didn’t know how long I’d be gone. Was it too naive of me to consider that I could stay the night? “Well, at the latest, tomorrow morning. Alright? Meet me here.”

I put on a few disguise charms, then Apparated as close to the address as I was familiar; the last time I was in Soho was James’ stag party. I walked to the hotel, a three-story brick building, then to his room.

I knocked. A few seconds later, Remus opened the door.

“Remus.” Before I could say anything more, he hugged me, but, sensing my awkwardness, let me go after only a moment.

Remus studied me, then led me inside. “It’s been a while.”

I nodded and set my things at the foot of the bed. “Can I use your bath? I’ve had to use cleaning spells, and it isn’t the same. You can probably tell I haven’t washed in…” I tried to remember.

“Go ahead.” Remus sat down in the chair at the end of the room.

I shut the washroom door behind me, disrobed, then studied myself in the mirror. I hadn’t seen my full reflection in twelve years, and regretted seeing myself now. My ribs stuck out, I was dirty, and the slight build I’d had in my younger years was gone, leaving only bones behind.

As I bathed, I tried to keep myself from expecting Remus to join me. But it wasn’t just the thought of him that gave me an erection; the warmth of the water, the overwhelming sense of safety consumed me. When I stepped out of the shower, I saw Remus had placed some of his clothes on the floor beside the shower, presumably for me to wear. I changed into them, then stepped out of the room.

Remus had opened a bottle of whiskey. Once he finished pouring two glasses, he glanced up. “You usually sing in the shower.”

I forced a smile. “Well, I suppose you might expect I’m not as…joyful as I was before prison.”

Remus scrutinized my hair. “Do you mind if I give you a haircut?” He set down the drinks and started to look through his things.

I raised an eyebrow. “I reckon I could use one.”

Remus found what he was looking for: his shaving kit. He pulled up a chair and gestured for me to take a seat.

I did so, closing my eyes as he got to work. “Tell me everything. I’m assuming werewolf laws haven’t changed.”

“That’s why I left my cottage for a while. I suspect people may come by, try something…Anyhow, they haven’t found a real cure yet, either.” Remus combed his fingers through my hair. “It’s been impossible to find work.”

Shivers ran down my neck from the tips of his fingers. “Then…what’ve you done to survive?”

The first snip of the scissors. “After you were sent to Azkaban, I searched for work that paid a living wage. I’ve been telling people I couldn’t find work, but that’s a lie. I couldn’t find _legal_ work. The job I got seemed innocent enough; I was a secretary for a magical remedy manufacturer. But after a couple years, they let me in on the real business. The illegal part.”

Remus was the biggest rule-follower I knew. Breaking the law on an income seemed more up my alley, if anything.

He could tell my interest was piqued, and I could hear the sly smile in his voice as he said, “Don’t get too excited, Padfoot.”

Another shiver. _Padfoot. He called me Padfoot._

“They sent—well, send, I suppose—their employees around Britain to heal Muggles. Of course, the risk is the Muggle world finding out about the wizarding world, let alone the Ministry catching us.”

I smirked. “So you got to stick it to the Ministry.”

Remus chuckled. “More like follow the prejudices they set against my kind, but yeah, sometimes I saw it like that. At least they did, that’s why they trusted me. So anyhow, this underground business they’ve got has booths at festivals, fairs—quiet sorts of events. And the remedies usually come in the form of spells and on-site potions—so there’s no evidence. If the user doesn’t drink the potion within 24 hours, there’s a charm that makes the buyer lose it.”

_Details, details._ I huffed a bit in impatience. “Is the Ministry on your arse, then?”

Remus studied my hair from the front, then, satisfied, waved his wand to send the clippings to the bin. He got out a razor and shaving cream, lathered my face, and began to draw the blade slowly across my face. 

“The Ministry isn’t after me, specifically, but there were a fair number of slip-ups that could’ve ruined the whole operation. Enough wizarding folk pull Muggle-healing shit on their own for us to cover our tracks. But anyway, everyone has a job tailored to their experience or personality. Muggleborns typically assimilate into religious communities, offering paid spiritual advice, performing the occasional miracle to bolster their reputation. The youngest and oldest witches tend to go into fairs and festivals. The few remaining are assigned to specialized gigs. Ultimately it’s all better than going rogue—working outside the company—because you’re guaranteed housing, and you can always go back into secretarial if you’re not good at selling.”

As he rinsed the razor, I said, “So I’m guessing you did specialized gigs.”

“Well, no, actually. I was an exception.” He narrowed his eyes in concentration as he shaved my upper lip.

I cocked an eyebrow, and once he had cleaned off the remainder of the cream, said, “So what did you do?”

Remus’ fingers hesitated before he dried my hair with a quick spell. “One of the questions they asked was…what my sexual orientation was.”

“What’d you say?”

Remus took his drink and sat on the edge of the bed. His movements were so much slower and more precise than I remembered, his age apparent in the flecks of grey in his hair and the lines by his eyes. “I asked why it mattered and they said it wouldn’t hurt me, only help me, if I gave them an honest answer. So I told them I was bisexual.”

“And you are, then?” I turned the chair and folded my arms over the top of it.

“What, bi?” He raised an eyebrow. “A lot has changed since you’ve been away, Sirius, but that’s one thing that hasn’t. And…it won’t. It can’t, really.” Remus downed half his glass, blinking a bit at its strength. “So it ended up being better I told them the truth, because it got me one of the highest paying—albeit most dangerous—jobs they had.”

“And why was it the most dangerous?”

“Well, I wasn’t healing sore backs, or colds, or mundane things like that. It can’t be cured by Muggle doctors.”

“What is it, then?”

Remus took a long drink, then cleared his throat. “A Muggle disease. They refer to the disease as HIV and AIDS. Er, Human Immunodeficiency Virus and Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. The former often leads to the latter.” He paused, one hand gripping the armrest of his chair, knuckles white. “You’ve sort of missed the whole crisis. In the Muggle world there was—and is still—a lot of prejudice and fear surrounding it, because so many of the victims have been gay and bi men. Treatment is certainly better than twelve years ago, but they can’t be cured.

“So my job was to provide the cure. I would stick around in places like Kemptown and Soho for a couple weeks, getting to know the locals—”

“What does that mean?”  


Remus scowled. “Oh, come on.” But he still didn’t meet my gaze.

I knew a lot had changed, I had to know that, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept everything. “I may be an arse for this, but…I assumed you wouldn’t want to be with any man ever again because of me. I assumed you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

Remus poured himself more firewhiskey. “It wasn’t just men, though, yes, I did feel that way, at first. But after spending two, three years alone, I finally had to try to move on. Besides, it never meant much, at least not most of the time. I couldn’t stay anywhere too long, so I’d hook up with someone once, make sure anyone getting the cure had been living there for a while, that they weren’t a spy, then sell him—it was usually a man—and his friends the cure for five thousand pounds each, which is the same as a month’s worth of Muggle treatment.”

“Now you’re making the job sound easy.”

Remus drank the rest of his wine, eyes focused on something in the distance. “It was easy when I didn’t have to erase the memory of the person I healed, or their friends and family. Not everyone was willing to keep the cure a secret.

“A lot of the money went into housing and to the company, but I still ended up with 40,000 pounds and 2,000 galleons per year. That would’ve been much more than enough, but I allowed myself to become emotionally attached to the communities and people in them. So most of my income went toward Muggle charities and people who couldn’t afford the drug whom I cared for. Sometimes after several years I’d hear from someone I’d grown close to and—they’d tell me they were on the verge of death. But by then, a cure would raise suspicion, so except for a few who had lost friends and family when they came out, I was forced to—to let them die.”

I watched Remus as he covered his face in his hands. Having my happiness drained for over a decade seemed, for the first time, comparable to the life he’d lived, supposedly outside of prison walls. The envy I’d felt over his freedom faded.

“Did you love any of them? The men—the people you were with?”

Remus lifted his head. “What would it take to love someone?”

I didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter, he continued anyway.

“Going into it all, I’d never been in an adult relationship—sorry, you know what I mean—so there were many I fancied just because they offered something new, and made me feel good…but love? I never stayed anywhere long enough, and I couldn’t…” He blinked to clear his vision and studied me. “Enough about me. What was it like in Azkaban?”

“Looking back, there’s not much to say. Twelve years in the same cell, with the same walls, the same food, same dementors, same everything…”

“What got you through it?”

“I spent a long time thinking about revenge. About torturing Peter for what he did. When the dementors came round, I’d either think about that, or—or I’d think about you.” Despite the seriousness of our conversation, I felt excitement stir within me.

Remus swallowed and shifted in his seat, eyes flicking almost imperceptibly to his trousers before meeting mine again.

“Eventually, though, they tainted even those memories. They forced me to think about the night I left you. The night I betrayed you.”

Remus shook his head. “Sirius, you had to do what was best for James. I understand that now. I expected too much of you.”

“It wasn’t as though I loved him more, Remus. Just that your life wasn’t on the line, his was, and I saw risking his life as selfish.”

Remus’ eyes shone. “I suppose I—I knew that was the reason, but I convinced myself otherwise.”

I shook my head. “I was wrong. I spent more time doubting you than I doubted Peter. Even if you had betrayed us, I should’ve trusted you. I just—I wanted the Marauders to have a future together. Live to serve as an example to impressionable youth.” I thought for a moment and chuckled. “Imagine us at Dumbledore’s age, pranking nurses at some retirement home.”

“You may be alive and kicking then, but the life expectancy of werewolves is barely sixty.” 

“Hell, and I had just been thinking I’ve become more of a pessimist than you. I take it back.”

Remus chuckled, then asked, “Where will you go after this? I wish I could offer you a place, but I only have a cottage in Yorkshire, and it’s probably too dangerous for you at the moment.”

I nodded. “I have to leave Europe. Perhaps I’ll go to Canada, or to India where James’ distant relatives are…somewhere where people know English. But I don’t know how long I’d stay. Years, maybe.”

“When are you leaving?” Remus tried to seem nonchalant.

“Tomorrow.” Saying this, I realized, sounded like I expected sex. I didn’t necessarily mean I’d stay in the hotel…or did I?

“I suppose you should make the best use of your time, then?” Remus glanced up at me.

“If you’d have me.” I met his gaze.

Remus stood, then took my hand and pulled me up, gently. He placed his hands on either side of my face, drinking in my features, then kissed me. His lips were hesitant at first.

I had been nervous, but now I was caught up in making him feel as good as I did. I held him closer to me, hand at the back of his neck and between the blades of his shoulders.

Remus placed a hand on my chest and pushed me back on the bed. I lifted my head and moved backward. With my eyes locked on Remus, I unbuttoned his shirt and threw it to the side.

I lifted my arms and he pulled off my shirt with one movement, then kissed me, hands resting on my chest. He pulled away to study me, eyes moving from rib to rib, then smiled slightly to reassure me. I realized how much I ached not only for Remus, but to be touched in general. Remus, on the other hand, was accustomed to being with others, but still, it was me he had wanted.

I was so taken aback by Remus’ confidence that I could only watch as his mouth trailed down my stomach. When he glanced back up at me, I regained my senses and sat up to meet his lips. His cheek was warm in my hand, the familiarity of his scars setting goosebumps over my skin.

Remus traced my hand with his fingers, weaving his other hand into my hair. His mouth became more rough, but his hands, as they moved across my chest, were delicate. I realized he was taking me in for what could be the last time, and that I should do the same. My hands felt the ridges of old wounds, the knots of muscles, and the slight sheen on his skin.

I pulled away so I could look at him. His expression cut through me, and my mind was in multiple moments at once, remembering that same look over the years. He felt alive.

I hesitated, a rare moment of insecurity. “It’s been twelve years.”

Remus searched my eyes, then said, “And I’ve never wanted you more in my life.” He traced his hands down my sides, unbuttoned my trousers, then looked up for my permission.

I nodded and let my head sink back in the pillow, closing my eyes. Remus tugged my trousers off, pants and all. His warm breath tickled me for a moment, shallow and quick, before his mouth closed around me. I gasped and glanced up to meet his gaze. I was embarrassed at first about how the pleasure consumed me, but after a few minutes, I forgot to care.

“Shit, no, I’m, I’m…!”

We both lifted our heads to look at each other. Remus licked the corner of his mouth.

“Keep going,” I said, voice distant, trying not to beg.

Remus stared at me with animalistic precision. “Turn over.”

I flipped onto my stomach, and Remus pushed me further into position.

_“Lubrico,”_ Remus said, then entered me.

I gripped the sheets. “Remus…!”

He lowered himself along the length of me so I could feel him, the brush of his belly, his chest against my shoulders. His grunts came short in my ear, starting low, steady in their pace, as he ignored my begging for him to go faster. “I’ll wait until you’re ready,” he said, hand slipping beneath me to my cock.

When I finally rose to him, Remus turned me onto my back. “Fuck, yes…Merlin…” I placed my hands on his hips, moaning, no longer coherent. And then I met his gaze. He was staring at me, eyes red, as though I would Disapparate at any moment.

Startled, I lifted my head and kissed him. After we parted, he cried out and came, continuing to thrust until I followed suit.

Remus fell back onto the bed next to me. I looked over; he was holding back a laugh.

I felt a rush of color. “What’ve I done?”

“No, it’s not you, Padfoot—it’s just, I haven’t felt this young in ages. You and I—we were barely over twenty-one the last time we had sex.” He laughed openly, now, the frown lines on his face straining with the effort.

I grinned, relieved. “You’re right.” I turned onto my side and ran my thumb over his cheek. “You’ve lived so much these past twelve years. God help us, you’ve matured so much. I still feel twenty-one, but I look forty.” Stupidly, I felt tears well up in my eyes. All the muscles in my body tightened, and I curled slightly, jaw clenched.

“Sirius, what—” Remus stopped short as he realized I was crying. He stroked my shoulders and my hair, concern showing through in the cautiously slow movements of his hands.

I let him do this for a time as I let my emotions run free. The shame at sobbing so unabashedly passed into relief, and then I had recovered enough to steady myself.

“You’re not usually the type to cry after sex,” Remus said finally, kissing the salty trails on my cheeks.

I snorted, and he drew back, surprised, and we both laughed, relaxing. “I’ve developed a tendency to overthink things. I should be happy. I am happy.”

Remus studied me. “I don’t want to be apart again. But if it means we can be together later, I’m willing to compromise.”

Warmth spread through me. Grinning, I lay back in the bed and stretched. _“Accio cigarette!”_ I waited, but nothing came. “Worth a try.”

“Sorry. Haven’t smoked since I was in the Muggle world. Want some more whiskey?” Remus summoned the bottle, drank, and handed it to me.

I took a sip, then reached over Remus to put it on the nightstand. Before I could retract my arm, Remus grabbed me. Eyes fluttering shut, he brought his lips to mine. I crawled on top of him, cradling his face, heart beating quickly as he kissed me, his wanting clear through his lips.

“Wanna go again?”

After we both finished, Remus held me instead of collapsing next to me. “I love you, Sirius.”

I twisted in his grip to face him. “After everything?”

“Especially after everything.” He ran his fingers along my side. “I’ve had to suppress it, all these years, in order to stay sane, and now—now I realize what a lie I’ve been living.”

“What would the point be in suffering?”

Remus pressed his lips together in reluctant agreement. Then he positioned himself so that we faced one another. “Last time we said goodbye, we didn’t see each other again for twelve years. I had so much unsaid, and—I’m sure you can relate to this—so much I wanted to tell you before one of us died.”

“Remus…”

“I know you think it’s not going to be like last time, but if you trust the wrong people, if the Ministry is determined enough, they will catch you. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wishing I had done anything differently, tonight.”

“Okay.” I studied him, then rested my head on his chest. “What did you wish you’d said to me, if you’d known how long we would’ve been apart?”

Remus stroked my hair as he thought. “For a while, I regretted being so touchy about your relationship with James. I would’ve rather had some of your affection than none. But I got past that. I realized how much the war had warped our relationship, so it was natural that you’d become suspicious of me, because things weren’t as they’d been before; they couldn’t be. And then I wanted life with you after the war. I wanted to wake up at noon, knowing we had no plans for the day, and make lunch and fuck in the evening. I didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to go on a mission, not knowing when we’d have time to eat or if we’d have the energy to fuck. I thought about what it would’ve been like to have that.”Remus realized he’d been gripping my hair frustrated, and released me. “What about you?”

I considered what he’d said. “I can’t put it into words like you can. Azkaban—Azkaban robbed me of words. But there were raw emotions in the memories I kept. The expressions I knew were only for me, the things I knew you’d only told me. I wanted that again. I wanted to talk to you. Just talk, about anything, about us. I wanted to talk to you about embarrassing moments from our childhood…” I paused. “Do you remember when we played Truth or Dare in sixth year? At that party?”

“You gave me a hard on in front of half the school, how could I forget?”

“I wish I could say it was difficult. Anyhow, the point is, that dream I described—”

“I remember that, too. You said you made her—me, rather—come a dozen times?”

“Right, but that dream was one of many. I brought it up now because I remember my first. Because we’re being honest, it wasn’t my first ever sex dream, you remember how James didn’t mind parading around naked in the dorm? He caused frequent issues, but that’s beside the point. In the first dream I had about you, you came into my bed in the middle of the night and sucked me off.”

“And I thought you were awful at Divination.”

I smirked. “When was your first one about me?”

“I never had sex dreams. Whereas you were jacking off every night, I tried to think about sex as little as possible.”

“Why?”

“Because I developed later than you.” It was clear Remus had considered it before, but I knew he’d never spoken about it with anyone. “And even once I had developed, it made me uncomfortable. I should’ve seen it as healthy, but I repressed those sorts of feelings. I focused on the fairy tales, the romance, but I never went beyond that.”

“How about when you had me rub lotion on your back?”

Remus flushed a little. “That was the first time I masturbated.”

“You’re serious?”

“Well, you got me started, and the urge was there…Why do you think I was so embarrassed around you once I came downstairs?”

I grinned. “I hope you realize how much I’m enjoying this.”

“Oh, I can tell.”

“I thought of something. Tell me how you felt, that first time in the shack. In detail.”

Remus ran a hand through his hair. “Well, by then—was it fourth year?—by then I had thought about kissing you quite often, you know, whenever you leaned in too close or looked at me a certain way, so I was thinking about it right before you kissed me. When it happened, I was caught up in that fantasy. In my mind, I forgot every reason we couldn’t be together and I just thought—this is it. Really, though, when you kissed the others, I realized how I felt. I thought I could never want anyone more than I wanted you at the time, but you’ve made me rethink that many times since…”

I listened to his heartbeat pick up speed, then tilted my head so he could kiss me. “We’ve spent so much time being jealous. You were jealous of my feelings for James…I was jealous of the girls you fancied…Faralyn in particular.”

“Regulus’ girlfriend? The one who was killed?”

“Assuming she was his girlfriend, yes. So you must’ve heard it turned out she was on our side. Apparently I can tell when people are good.”

“At least one of us can.”

Remus sighed. “I forgive you. Truly. War makes people do fucked up things. I don’t see it as revealing the darkness in people, only forcing them to do things they would never otherwise have to do. And why waste time holding a grudge when we only have each other?”

I nodded. “Then I’ll forgive myself.” I wrapped my arms around Remus and thought of everything except the fact that I would have to leave the next day.

 


	9. Inevitability

 

**26 August, 1994 19:08**

_Dear Moony,_

_Life in Brazil is great. The weather is just as beautiful as the people (don’t worry, I’ve resisted temptation. And before you have a doubt that anyone’s been interested, just remember the Brazilian bloke from that club we met at that coffee place in Soho). Anyhow, you’ll be pleased to hear I’ve only had one run in with a wizard, and I wiped his memory. The disguise spells you gave me have helped tremendously, though I still feel safer in my Animagus form._

_Let me know how they’re talking about me back home. Hopefully I can return soon._

_Padfoot_

**24 June, 1995 21:19**

Dumbledore looked between us. “Now I have work for each of you. Fudge’s attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher—the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin’s for a while; I will contact you there.”

“But—” Harry began, trying to sit up in the hospital bed.

“You’ll see me very soon. Harry,” I said, turning to him. “I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don’t you?”

Harry nodded, clearly still shaken by the night’s events. “Yeah. Yeah…of course I do.”

He was as strong as James had been. I grasped his hand briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, which I managed to open with a paw. I continued to run, not quite registering the incredulous looks of passerby, then the night sky, until I was far enough away to transform back into a human and Disapparate.

I appeared on Remus’ doorstep. Once I had oriented myself, I knocked on the door, fidgeting in impatience. Finally, the door opened.

“Remus.” I hurried past him. “We haven’t got much time. Albus asked me to assemble the Order, but I haven’t seen you in so long, I wanted—”

“Slow down, Sirius.” Remus closed the door and crossed to me. His faced was lined with worry and pain, and he placed his hands on my shoulders.

I held his gaze, breathing hard, until I could no longer stand to be so separate. I wrapped my arms around him. “I’ve missed you. Fuck, Remus, I hated being apart.”

“I know.” Remus rubbed my back, other hand pressing me closer to him. “Christ, you’re in awful shape; I can feel your bones.” He was silent, but I could tell by the edge that had been in his voice that he was holding back what he really wanted to say. “It’s just the same as when you came back from Azkaban a year ago. I thought then that things may change, but I was wrong.” Remus let go of me and turned away; he wasn’t talking about my physical state anymore. “How can I know—why would I put my time, my life, into someone that won’t even be around? I’ve felt like such a fool for pining over you, while you found it so easy to sit in a cave for nearly a year rather than be with me. And before you say it was for Harry, consider how it might seem to me, that you keep pushing me away. First, you suspect I’m working for Voldemort. And after escaping Azkaban, you didn’t try to communicate with me; and when we did see each other again in that shack it wasn’t even on purpose. Then you leave for months to go into hiding, not even considering there may be another way. When you finally do return, you spend a few weeks off an on with me before moving to a bloody cave where you nearly starved yourself to death, so tell me, _why should I keep trusting you?”_

While I had regained my breath, Remus was now panting.

I stared at him, appalled. “You think I haven’t considered why I have such a problem being with you for a long time? It’s—it’s more complicated than you think. I don’t think I deserve you, for one, I mean how could I deserve you? I fucked our best friend, let myself chase after him for years with hardly a thought that he was using me. Despite everything we went through, I still mistrusted you, got myself imprisoned for trying to kill Wormtail, and would rather live like an animal in a cave than face the fact that I can’t make up for lost time protecting Harry. I spent years alone, not being touched, spoken to, looked at—it was too much to be around people all of a sudden, to have someone love me when I’d hated myself for so long. I don’t deserve you, I never did. And because You-Know-Who is back from the dead—”

“You-Know-Who is alive? How—Is that why you’re here?”

I waved this away. “We have years to talk about him. Just—give me two minutes.”

With a great effort, Remus stifled his concern. “I can’t understand why you insisted on punishing yourself. But I can…” He reached out and touched my cheek. “I can trust you again. If You-Know-Who is back, it can’t be like last time. We can’t suspect each other.”

Remus touched his lips to mine, and I wove my hands into his hair, feeling the shift of his head as he tilted to kiss me with more fervor. Then he pulled away. “We have to talk first. Some of the things you said—you can’t expect them to be resolved because you confessed them to me.” He sighed and pushed the hair out of my eyes. “You should live with me until we find somewhere more permanent.”

**19 September, 1995 9:16**

****I spat out my toothpaste and splashed my face with water from the tap, then said to Remus, “You should move in with me.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

I scoffed. “Intrude on what? I’m essentially on house arrest.”

“So you aren’t worried people will get the wrong idea? Or the right idea, rather?”

“As far as anyone can tell, we’re just best mates. We just probably shouldn’t have loud, raging sex if the Order is around.”

“Oh, seriously, Sirius, of course you’d jump straight to—”

“Seriously Sirius?” I raised an eyebrow.

Remus pretended to scowl. “I’m going to murder you.”

“You don’t want to do the Ministry’s job for them! At least collect a bounty.”

“I’m _serious_. I have a point—”

“No, I’m Sirius.”

“For the love of all that is sacred in the world, you need to stop.”

I crossed my arms. “Fine. Get on with it.”

“When are we going to be honest with everyone?”

Hot stabs of annoyance prickled through me. I wanted to brush off the question, dismiss him, but I couldn’t keep running from our relationship. I couldn’t pretend to myself that it was just sex between us, because it never had been, and of course I cared about him, but no one could know.

“Why don’t we focus on making it through the war. We’ll worry about it after.”

Remus scoffed. “You call that an excuse…”

“What, you expect we’ll be able to live a fairytale among all this shit?”

“This ‘shit’ is all the more reason to decide if we’re going to be doing this.”

“Why do you want to be so attached? If one of us dies—and it’s very fucking likely—then it would’ve been for nothing.” I saw the words sting Remus, and couldn’t help feel a twinge of satisfaction, as though I were saving him misery.

“For nothing.” Remus looked at me, expression hard. “Do you think the same thing about James?”

“It’s not the same. Friendship is—you and I are—”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What?”

My words had already lost their sharpness, it seemed. I tried to reassert myself. “You want something more with me than I ever wanted with James. And, well—he married Lily, and they had a kid, like a normal family. It made sense for people to know because they did what everyone does.”

“Since when have you done what everyone does?”

“Since I wanted people to stay out of my life.”

“People, or me?”

I gritted my teeth. “Look, make it about yourself, or being gay, or whatever, but I already have my personal life displayed for everyone in the Order to see. They feel sorry for me now, but imagine how that pity would turn to discomfort, even scorn, if they knew about our sleepovers. What good would it do? If this was out, would it make you comfortable kissing me in front of the Order? Holding my hand? Can’t you picture it, them either staring or trying hard not to look, and suddenly it’s not about the War but the little drama in our lives. They’d circle us like vultures, sickly fascinated, waiting—”

Remus started to chuckle. I froze, shivers prickling at the back of my neck.

“It’s both of our egos, isn’t it? I want to drag us out of secrecy, you want to assume people’s lives revolve around you.” He looked at me. “But if we both survive this war…”

I met his gaze, then nodded. “If we survive, and win, then fuck it, I want to be with you, Remus.”

**4 January, 1996 21:32**

“C’mon, Sirius.”

I bit his lip and snickered. “What’s wrong?”

Remus shut the door behind us. “If Kreacher sees…”

“It’s been months and he hasn’t found us out. Besides, no one listens to him. If he started muttering about us, calling us fags or queer or whatever—”

Remus crossed his arms. “You forgot fudge packer, fairy, sodomite—”

“…I doubt anyone would notice, or care.”

Remus assessed me for a moment, eyebrows raised. “Wait, you think it’s hot.”

“What?”

“You like sneaking around, almost getting caught—it turns you on.”

I grinned. “It’s just that, with so many people in the place, someone could walk in. And they’d find it wrong. You and I—two men, for that matter—shouldn’t be fucking.” I locked the door and cast a Muffling Charm.

“I’ll make it quick, then,” Remus said, unbuckling his trousers.

My breath quickened. We kissed, then he pushed me down onto the bed.

“This is the first time we’ve gone longer than a week without sex.”

“You keep track?” He pulled off my pants. _“Lubrico.”_

“It becomes painfully obvious—ah—if we wait too long. If I have to masturbate three times in one day to tide myself over, I know it’s been a week.”

“You’ve masturbated three times today, then?”

“Twice. I was—”

“When. How.” His words were coming out short now, one per thrust.

I exhaled and reached down. “First, this morning. You weren’t awake yet. I was mid-dream, you were—ah—you were sucking me off. Ah, shit, Moony, Christ…”

“Second?”

“Second, after dinner. You—ah—ah, _Merlin_ , you—touched my leg at dinner. I wanted to—ah—to fuck you then, in front of everyone. So I went into our closet, I used the toy you gave me last month—ah…” I had to collect my thoughts, concentrate on staying on the edge. “That pink one. I jacked off, I thought of you and a Death Eater—”

Remus stopped. “What?”

I flushed. “It’s a fantasy of mine, alright? We help a Death Eater realize he’s gay, and we all fuck.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Don’t stop, please. Ah—”

Remus leaned close to my ear. “Did he fuck like me?”

“No. Merlin, no.”

Remus gripped my sides for better leverage. “I didn’t think so.”

“You’re the only one I want to _be_ with, Remus.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re perfect.”

Whatever Remus was expecting, it wasn’t that. After a moment, he said, “You are, too.”

“I wish there was a stronger—ah—word than _magic_ to describe how you feel inside me.”

“After I make you come, maybe you can think of something.” Remus’ expression faltered, and he clenched the sheets. I reached up and gripped his back, moving with him as he came.

Remus shifted back on the bed, studying me, then my hands, which moved slowly, deliberately. “Can I finish that for you?”

I nodded and stretched my arms over my head. “Am I like those other blokes you slept with?”

Remus kept his hold on me, but moved closer. “It’s not as though your cum is green, Padfoot.” He brought his mouth over mine, holding back. “But when I fuck you, I know you. A body is a body, but a person—a person is something else entirely.”

“Like fucking a soul?” My legs trembled, and I pressed the back of my head into the pillow.

Remus kissed me, pausing to chuckle. “Sure.”

“Ah—ah—bloody Christ…” I arched my back, then went limp, sighing as Remus rolled off of me.

He glanced at the time. “That took seven minutes. Quite fast, I think.”

“We should have another go tomorrow night, before everyone leaves. I won’t have it in me after then. I’ll be too depressed.” I kissed Remus’ neck as he sat on the edge of the bed, buttoning up his shirt. “Moony, you make this place less shit.”

Remus glanced down at me. “I don’t doubt it. If I weren’t here, you’d just be left with your hand.”

I kissed his jawline, his cheek, his mouth. “You’re beautiful, Remus.” He flushed beneath my fingertips and pushed closer to me.

A loud crack broke the silence, and we jerked apart. George stood before us, mouth ajar, eyes wide.

Remus stood. “George—hang on, don’t go.” He spoke evenly, as though he were addressing a student.

My heart pounded. I no longer wanted any of the suspense. If I had known this would happen, I wouldn’t have snuck about. “For fuck’s sake, you two can’t keep Apparating all over the house…”

George covered his mouth, eyes crinkling as he giggled. “I’m sorry,” he managed.

Remus glanced at his wand, then back to George. “It’s alright.” He masked an otherwise abrupt move to his wand by sighing and rubbing his temple. “Can you keep this between us?”

George’s expression became solemn. “Course. I can tell Fred, though, right?”

Sensing Remus needed me to stall, I replied, “Well, let’s see. If he promises not to tell anyone, then I’m sure—”

Remus whipped around. _“Obliviate!”_

George stumbled backward, so I leapt up to grab his arm.

Remus tucked his wand into his trousers and ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you, Padfoot.”

“Yeah,” I said, face numb with relief. “Are you okay? I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to erase his memory, and I—I don’t want you to take it personally.”

Remus guided a very dazed George to the door. “He shouldn’t know before Harry. And erasing his memory is better than killing him, right?”

**28 May, 1996 16:37**

“Sirius, it’s Harry. He’s in the fireplace.”

I furrowed my brow and followed Remus to the living room. “What is it?” I said, pushing my hair out of my eyes to see him more clearly, dropping to the ground in front of the fire, so that and Harry and I were on a level.

Remus knelt down beside me and asked Harry, “Are you all right? Do you need help?”

“No,” Harry said, “it’s nothing like that…I just wanted to talk…about my dad.”

We exchanged a look of surprise, but Harry charged straight into his explanation. He’d seen us harass Snape in an object that could show memories, called a Pensieve. He seemed to think James was as bad as Snape, that it made James a bad person.

I waited for Remus to say something. I could feel Harry’s disgust with me. Finally, Remus said quietly, “I wouldn’t like you to judge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He was only fifteen—”

Harry straightened. “I’m fifteen!”

“Look, Harry…” I searched for the right words. “James and Snape hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other, it was just one of those things, you can understand that, can’t you? I think James was everything Snape wanted to be—he was popular, he was good at Quidditch—good at nearly everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts, and James—whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry—always hated the Dark Arts.”

“Yeah…” Harry fished for an argument, “but he just attacked Snape for no good reason, just because—well, just because you said you were bored.”

“I’m not proud of it.” But I didn’t regret it, per se.

Remus looked sideways at me, then said, “Look, Harry, what you’ve got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did—everyone thought they were the height of cool—if they sometimes got a bit carried away—”

“If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean,” I said. Remus smiled.

“He kept messing up his hair.” Harry seemed pained.

We laughed, then I said, “I’d forgotten he used to do that.”

Remus was brighter than I’d seen him in weeks. “Was he playing with the Snitch?”

“Yeah…” Harry didn’t seem to get it.“Well…I thought he was a bit of an idiot.”

“Of course he was a bit of an idiot! We were all idiots! Well—not Moony so much.” I gave Remus a look, trying to compliment him, but he shook his head.

“Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape? Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, well, you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes…that was something…”

Our excuses for James didn’t convince Harry. “And he kept looking over at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watching him!”

I tried to hide the annoyed edge in my voice. “Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lily was around. He couldn’t stop himself showing off whenever he got near her.”

“How come she married him? She hated him!”

I shook my head. “Nah, she didn’t.”

Remus searched my expression. “She started going out with him in seventh year.”

“Once James had deflated his head a bit,” I added.

Remus nodded. “And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it.”

Harry hesitated. “Even Snape?”

“Well,” Remus said, aware that we could lose the argument, “Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?”

“And my mum was okay with that?”

“She didn’t know too much about it, to tell you the truth. I mean, James didn’t take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?” I set my jaw. “Look, your father was the best friend I ever had, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots at the age of fifteen. He grew out of it.”

Harry seemed convinced. “Yeah, okay. I just never thought I’d feel sorry for Snape.”

Remus glanced at me, then looked back at Harry. “Now you mention it, how did Snape react when he found you’d seen all this?”

“He told me he’d never teach me Occlumency again, like that’s a big disappoint—”

Rage shot through me. “He WHAT?”

Remus stared, wide-eyed, at Harry. “Are you serious, Harry? He’s stopped giving you lessons?”

Harry clearly didn’t see the big deal. “Yeah. But it’s okay, I don’t care, it’s a bit of a relief to tell you the—”

“I’m coming up there to have a word with Snape!” I said, and made to stand up, but Remus pulled me back down again.

“If anyone’s going to tell Snape it will be me! But Harry, first of all, you’re to go back to Snape and tell him that on no account is he to stop giving you lessons—when Dumbledore hears—”

“I can’t tell him that, he’d kill me!” Harry said, outraged. “You didn’t see him when we got out of the Pensieve.”

“Harry there is nothing so important as you learning Occlumency!” Remus said. “Do you understand me? Nothing!”

It was true. If Harry let himself fall prey to Voldemort, he put everyone in danger. Everyone’s life was at stake.

“Okay, okay, I’ll…I’ll try and say something to him…but it won’t be—” Then Harry fell silent. “Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?”

“No.” I glanced behind me, then said, “It must be somebody your end.”

Harry glanced behind him. “I’d better go!” Then he was gone.

After we stood up, Remus said, “We both know Harry won’t be able to get the lessons again on his own. Snape’s too stubborn, and Harry’s hardly better.”

I bristled. “Are you saying this is Harry’s fault?”

“Of course not, but the animosity goes both ways. If we’d eased off on him, treated him the same as the other Slytherins, perhaps this wouldn’t be a problem…”

I thought of what I could say to argue, but realized Remus had already moved on, lost in thought.

“What?”

Remus shook his head. “I suppose I still don’t fully understand why you continue to hate Severus.”

I glared at him. “Snape’s an arrogant prick. He’s made Harry’s life miserable all because he wants revenge.” 

“I’ve found—”

I knew where this was going. “Fuck’s sake, why do you have to do this now? Harry’s the one you should be worried about.”

“Listen, alright? I’ve found that we most dislike, or we’re most critical of, the people who appear similar to us. People who at the same time reflect an ugly part of ourselves, who compromise our pride and beliefs. It doesn’t matter the scale of evil, or wrongdoing, it matters how simultaneously similar and different we are to the person.”

“Snape could not be further from me.”

“Well, you both wanted to escape your home life. You both felt like you needed to prove yourself in school. You were both outcasts. But with all of these in common, you never followed the Dark Arts. Lily, and nearly everyone, rejected Severus for what was seen as wrong—his involvement in the Dark Arts—but you were accepted. And it’s worse because, well, you both have dark hair, pale skin, but he’s the, er, ugly one, the unconfident one, the opposite of you.” 

“I’m okay with hating him, Remus. I don’t want you to—to do whatever it is you’re trying. It’s great that you can forgive him, but I’m not going to.”

**14 June, 1996 10:17**

“Sirius? You want breakfast?”

I couldn’t bring myself to reply, or move.

“Look, you’ve got to get up some time. I know it’s shitty, being cooped up in here, but you’ve been like this for weeks.”

I kept lying, motionless.

“Fine. You want to waste your life moping, I’ll let you.” Remus hesitated in the doorway. I wanted him to drag me out of bed, to tell me off, to start a row—but he just closed the door behind him.

I fell back asleep.

**18 June, 1996 20:32**

I glanced at Remus, wanting him to grin back at me. But he was had the same grim determination as Kingsley, Moody, and Tonks. James would’ve loved the thrill of the battle, but none of them did.

Kingsley busted the doors open and we sprinted into the room.

The Malfoy boy turned and raised his wand, but Tonks had already sent a Stunning Spell at him. I spotted Harry as he dove off the dais and out of the way.

I sent spell after spell at the Death Eaters. I had months of pent-up fire in me. I felt…invincible. After I had warded off the offensive long enough, I looked around and spotted Harry just in time to see Dolohov raising his wand against him.

I ran toward them and slammed into Dolohov, sending him careening backwards. Before Dolohov could recover, I shot a Stunning Spell at him, forcing him onto the defensive.

Dolohov drew back his wand. I took a breath, feeling an odd gap where the battle was so unfamiliar, I didn’t know what to do. Just in time, Harry sprang up and yelled, _“Petrificus Totalus!”_ Dolohov’s arms and legs snapped together and he keeled over backwards, landing with a crash on his back.

I ignored the foreboding shivers. “Nice one!” I dove back and forced Harry’s head down as a pair of Stunning Spells flew towards us. “Now I want you to get out of—”

We both ducked again; a jet of green light had narrowly missed me. Across the room, we watched as Tonks fell from halfway up the stone steps, her limp form toppling from stone seat to stone seat. Bellatrix, triumphant, ran back toward the fray.

I got to my feet and yelled, “Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville and run!” Then I dashed to meet Bellatrix.

“Hello, cousin,” she snarled, raising her wand.

I smirked and shot a curse at her. She blocked it and returned the favor. We battled like this, back and forth, until our faces shone with sweat; a seemingly even match.

Finally, I overpowered her, and she stumbled back. The stunned look on Bellatrix’s face was priceless, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

Bellatrix snarled and yelled, _“Avada Kedavra!”_

****I laughed again as I ducked her curse. “Come on, you can do better than that!” My voice echoed around the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit me—

**2 May, 1998 3:51**

It was a peculiar feeling; I knew I had existed since dying but had not been conscious, as though I had been asleep. In the same way as waking up in the morning, I could tell approximately how much time had passed; nearly two years. A dream prickled in my mind—no, it wasn’t a dream, it was memories. I knew now; whatever was left of my being had followed those who kept me close.

After I fell through the veil, Remus held Harry back.

“There’s nothing you can do, Harry—”

“Get him, save him, he’s only just gone through!”

“—it’s too late, Harry.”

“We can still reach him—” Harry struggled hard against his grip, but Remus wouldn’t let go.

“There’s nothing you can do, Harry…nothing…he’s gone.”

“He hasn’t gone!” Harry yelled. He struggled against Remus’ grip. “SIRIUS! SIRIUS!” 

“He can’t come back, Harry,” said Remus, his voice breaking as he struggled to restrain Harry. “He can’t come back, because he’s d—”

“HE—IS—NOT—DEAD!” roared Harry. “SIRIUS!”

Then the scene dissolved.

“You okay, Remus?” Molly asked, resting a hand on his arm.

“Still in shock, I think.” He gestured numbly toward the stairs. “I’m gonna get some rest.”

“Alright, dear.” Molly pulled Remus into a hug, then studied him, searching for evidence of weakness.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Remus didn’t meet her eyes. He turned away stiffly and went upstairs to our room. He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands, sobs coming readily to him. He sat like this for a long time, then curled up on top of the covers and pulled the pillow that had been mine into his arms, face red and strained with anguish.

I felt a brief, sharp stab of pain, aching and old as though ties from my core had snapped.

The scene dissolved.

Remus was in our bedroom again, but time had clearly passed. He carried an armful of my clothes into my childhood room, then began to hang them up in the closet. When he was finished, he returned to our bedroom and threw all our old sex stuff and any random things I had lying around into a large garbage bag. He carried everything and stuffed it under my old mattress.

He crossed to the closet and waved this wand over the closet, murmuring.

A scent locking spell.

Remus pocketed his wand, then pressed his face in my favorite leather jacket, breathing in. When he turned away, his eyes were red, wet. “ _I loved you_ , you stupid, arrogant prick.” His eyes flared suddenly and slammed the closet door. “ _Fuck_ you! Fuck! Fuck…” His breath shook, and tears ran freely down his face.

The scene dissolved.

Tonks and Remus were sitting together at a bar when she said, “Sirius is dead because of me, Remus.”

Remus shook his head. His eyes were a little unfocused. “Don’t say that.”

“I was fighting Bellatrix, and if I had taken her out…don’t you blame me, too?”

“Of course I don’t blame you. And any of us could’ve stopped her.”

“Then why have you been acting so cold to me?”

“Have I?” Remus fell into thought.

Tonks scoffed. “Don’t pretend you don’t know I fancy you.”

Remus looked at her, then back at his drink.

Tonks gritted her teeth. “Look, I didn’t let him die, or anything, because I fancied you, if that’s what you think. I knew you two were together, that’s why I’ve blamed myself so much…”

Remus sneered, malice distorting his face. “Who told you?”

Tonks blinked, taken aback by his reaction. “No one. I had mostly gay friends before I joined the Order, and—”

“Well, I’m not gay.”

“I know.” She looked at Remus seriously, indicating she didn’t think him the opposite, either.

“And you shouldn’t want to be with me. It’s impossible for me to be in a healthy relationship. The only reason it worked with Sirius was because he was fucked up, too. And even then, he ended up dead, and I ended up alone…” Tonks’ expression hadn’t changed, so he added, “I’m too old for you. And my condition…”

“You think I care about that?” Tonks shook her head. “Look, it’s not like you’re as old as Albus, or as dangerous as Greyback, that shouldn’t—”

“I know it doesn’t matter to you, but it matters to me. We can be friends, but I’m not interested in you like that.” Remus polished off his drink.

Tonks studied him, her hair unconsciously turning black. “Are you still in love with him?”

Remus returned her look without replying.

The scene dissolved.

Tonks cast a werewolf Patronus to deliver a message to the castle that Harry had been found. Eventually, Snape arrived to pick up Harry.

“I meant Hagrid to get the message,” said Tonks, frowning.

“Hagrid was late for the start of term feast, just like Potter here, so I took it instead. And incidentally,” said Snape, standing back to allow Harry to pass him, “I was interested to see your new Patronus.”

He shut the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that they slithered, clinking, back into place.

“I think you were better off with the old one,” said Snape, the enmity in his voice unmistakable. “The new one looks weak.”

Shock and anger crossed Tonks’s face, then she was covered in darkness once more.

The scene dissolved.

“You thought I would not weesh to marry him? Or per’aps, you hoped?” said Fleur to Molly, her nostrils flaring. “What do I care how he looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave!”

After a long pause, Molly said, “Our Great Auntie Muriel has a very beautiful tiara—goblin-made—which I am sure I could persuade her to lend you for the wedding. She is very fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair.”

“Thank you,” said Fleur, lips pursed. “I am sure zat will be lovely.”

And with that, Molly and Fleur burst into tears.

Tonks glared at Remus. “You see!” she said, voice strained. “She still wants to marry him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!”

“It’s different,” Remus said, barely moving his lips, looking suddenly tense. “Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely—”

“But I don’t care either, I don’t care!” Tonks said, seizing the front of Remus’ robes and shaking them. “I’ve told you a million times…”

Remus refused to meet her eyes, staring at the floor. “And I’ve told _you_ a million times that I am too old for you, too poor…too dangerous…”

Molly looked over Fleur’s shoulder as she patted her on the back. “I’ve said all along you’re taking a ridiculous line on this, Remus.”

“I am not being ridiculous. Tonks deserves somebody young and…whole.”

“But she wants you,” Arthur said with a small smile. “And after all, Remus, young and whole men do not necessarily remain so.”

Now Remus couldn’t bring himself to look at anyone. “This is…not the moment to discuss it. Dumbledore is dead…”

“Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world,” Minerva said.

The scene dissolved.

It was night; Remus closed the hotel room door behind him and Tonks. Just after he turned around, Tonks threw her arms around him and kissed him.

They broke apart, then grinned at each other.

Remus pulled off her shirt before picking her up and carrying her to the bed…

The scene dissolved. Another began to form, and I caught a glimpse of dead bodies, but I forced it back. I didn’t want to see. As though waking from a dream, I was suddenly aware of Remus, James, and Lily nearby, but my emotions were focused on Harry as though I were forced to think of little else.

Lily approached Harry. “You’ve been so brave.”

“You are nearly there,” said James. “Very close. We are…so proud of you.”

“Does it hurt?”

I found myself answering Harry, though my words seemed false, detached. “Dying? Not at all. Quicker and easier than falling asleep.” But what happened after I died? I couldn’t say.

“And he will want it to be quick. He wants it over,” Remus said.

I had a vague notion that Harry was walking to be killed by Voldemort.

“I didn’t want you to die. Any of you. I’m sorry. Right after you’d had your son…Remus, I’m sorry—”

Remus, and all of us, did not look away from Harry, drawn like bugs to a light. “I am sorry too. Sorry I will never know him…but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life.”

Finally, a hitch in the monotonous bittersweetness of the moment. I felt my mind tug, desperate to feel.

Harry shivered a bit. “You’ll stay with me?”

“Until the very end,” said James.

“They won’t be able to see you?” asked Harry.

“We are part of you.” Vocalizing it, I knew its truth. “Invisible to anyone else.”

Harry looked to Lily. “Stay close to me.”

We joined Harry in meeting his death. The only feeling in me was a dull love, a fascination with his bravery.

As Harry revealed himself to Voldemort, he dropped the Resurrection Stone—

**17 September, 1981 9:56**

I woke up feeling like I had been asleep for years. I forced myself out of bed, though every muscle and thought in my body begged me not to move. My chest felt constricted, and though I couldn’t remember dreaming, my heart beat quickly. I had an overwhelming sense that the universe was too big.

Life in Azkaban was becoming more and more difficult.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time has reset. To understand the last chapters of this fic, I recommend reading or skimming through my fic Turning Time. However, at the end of the next chapter, I will provide some explanation.


	10. Romania

**13 August, 1993 19:12**

“What are you doing here?”

I started and turned around. Merlin, it was Harry. He was the spitting image of James. “So you’ve heard of me, then?”

Harry reached for his wand, but luckily he was unarmed. “You’re—you’re Sirius Black. You were my dad’s best friend…at least, until you went to Azkaban.”

I grinned. He sounded like him, too.

“Why were you in prison?”

I gestured for him to come closer, in case someone came round, but he refused, so I continued, “I was framed by one of your dad’s supposed best friends. On the night your parents died, I discovered that Peter Pettigrew had given their location to Voldemort. I went out to make him pay, only to have Peter murder twelve people and blame me for them, and for the murder of James and Lily!”

“Sh! Keep your voice down!” Harry glanced around, then asked, “How did you escape? _Why_ did you?”

I stepped closer. “The bastard—Peter—wanted to fake his death. Once I saw him in the papers, I was sure of it. See, your dad, Peter, Remus Lupin, and I…we became Animagi.”

“What are Animagi?”

“We could turn into animals at will—well, a particular animal for each person. It’s a very difficult process, and risky, which is why very few people attempt it. Anyhow, Peter became a rat. Fitting, as it happens. I spotted him in the Daily Prophet, he’s the pet rat of a boy at Hogwarts…”

His expression changed, self-doubt creeping through. “Does this boy have red hair? They were in Egypt?”

“Yeah. You saw the paper, too?”

Harry shook his head. “Ron’s my best mate. His rat’s name is Scabbers.”

“Let me ask you this—does Scabbers have a missing toe?”

Harry went white. “How’d you know that? You couldn’t possibly have seen—”

“He cut off his finger to make it seem like he blew up with the Muggles. How long has ‘Scabbers’ lived with Ron?”

“They’ve had him for…twelve years.”

“Rats only live for three, and your parents died twelve years ago. Strange coincidence, don’t you think? If you ask Ron, I’m sure he could date the time they found him, and I’d bet it was within the month after.”

Harry seemed to work through everything I’d told him. “How did you escape?”

I focused for a moment, then turned into a dog. I had been undercover for so long I could hardly tolerate the transformation, so I turned back. Panting a little, I explained, “You have to register to be an Animagus. The four of us had done it in secret, so the Ministry has no idea. I became thin enough to slip through the bars of the cell in my dog form. The guards can’t see real well.”

A dog started to bark hysterically a few houses over, catching my scent, so we moved farther in the backyard.

Anger finally caught up to Harry. “How could Peter have betrayed his friends? People who trusted him?”

“He’s a bloody coward, that’s why. Wanted to join the winning side.”

“Why didn’t he run away? Why bother living life as a pet? And why didn’t he kill me when he had the chance?”

“I’d think he’s been keeping an ear out for news. He’d only act under Voldemort’s orders, and if he knew there was something in it for him…”

“Then what are we supposed to do? When I see Scabbers again, what then?”

“Bring him to me. I’ll give him what he deserves.”

“But then you could still go back to Azkaban!”

“It’d be worth it, knowing Peter paid the price. He murdered your parents, Harry, surely—”

“You shouldn’t put yourself on the same level as him. He should be in Azkaban, not you, and we—we could put him there.”

“How the hell would we do that?”

I felt a familiar thrill in plotting, this time with James’ son rather than James.

After a minute, Harry said, “I have an idea. In the Ministry, is there some sort of law enforcement department?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Department of Magical Law Enforcement, sure.”

“Ron’s dad works in the Ministry, and I’ve never been.”

I caught on. “So, you’re saying he could take you to the Ministry, and you could bring Scabbers, because if he’s spying for Voldemort, he’d want to go—”

“…And we’ll show up at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, report that he didn’t register as an Animagus—”

“And he’ll be exposed and I’ll be proven innocent.”

**1 September, 1993 21:09**

It was my first night of freedom. I no longer had to worry about the Ministry finding me, just about Voldemort’s followers, and potentially any skeptics that still believed me guilty.

My feet were like lead. As I made to go to the staircase of the Burrow, up to where my temporary room was, someone behind me cleared their throat.

I turned, and immediately Remus moved in to hug me.

When we parted, I gaped at him. “But you’re teaching at Hogwarts, aren’t you?”

“Tomorrow. I planned to talk to you before I left.” He gestured toward the fireplace, the pot of Floo Powder.

“I wanted to talk, too.”

Remus’ smile faded at my tone. “What about?”

“How I betrayed you.”

“Betrayed me? _Peter_ betrayed me, you just—”

“I should’ve trusted you. Looking back, I don’t understand how I couldn’t have, but in the circumstances of the war…”

Remus drew me into his arms again. “I know. I know. It’s okay, I’ve—I’ve had plenty of time to think about everything, and it’s okay.

When he pulled away, I leaned in to kiss him.

“Er—I can’t.” Remus took a step back. “I have feelings for someone else.”

I blinked. “Are you with him, though?”

Remus flushed. “Her. And I—bloody hell, Sirius, I’m sorry. You were in prison, I thought you betrayed James and Lily, what else was I supposed to do?”

I shook my head, absent, as though disconnected from my body.

“We can still be friends, Sirius. We’re both alive, we should allow ourselves that.” When I didn’t reply, he continued, “You gave in to James _every time_ when we were kids. And with me—even if I was with someone, if I asked you to fuck me, you’d agree. I don’t know what you want.”

I breathed deeply and met his glare. “You, Remus, I want you.” He wavered, so I took the opportunity and continued, “You should want me enough to forget whoever you’re after for me.” When he merely averted his gaze, I added bitterly, “But I suppose we’ll always be each other’s second choice.”

“That’s not true, Sirius.” But Remus’ words were flat.

“You chose some woman—”

“And you chose James. Admit it, if he were gay, you’d have chosen him.”

“But he chose Lily.”

Remus flinched, as though he’d been slapped. “So if he hadn’t…?”

“No, Remus, that’s not what I—c’mon, look, Remus, I—”

“If it hasn’t worked by now, Sirius, it’s not going to work. It hasn’t worked, even when we were kids.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say in that moment. By the time Remus climbed into the fireplace and disappeared, I had retorts buzzing in my head, but it was too late. Why hadn’t I said our relationship didn’t have to be perfect? Or that the past didn’t matter? Even saying that I loved him might’ve made him stay a little longer. But a part of me wanted to punish myself. I wanted to force myself to accept responsibility for suspecting him, for succumbing to James, for letting myself be imprisoned for as long as I had.

**12 December, 1996 1:09**

I became numb to the decision Remus and I made. The war was an ugly but suitable distraction from our relationship, and because he acted so normal, I followed suit.

The woman he’d fancied was Raven Faralyn. In the Hogwarts teaching workshops over the summer, they’d become close. The details I heard through rumor were vague, but eventually they got together.

And then they split up. Because I’d avoided asking about his relationship with Raven, by the time I found out they’d split up, he was seeing someone else—Tonks. Through the Order, they’d sleep together in my home; I fumed about it, but I didn’t want Remus to see me as irrational. And when the war ended, I didn’t see it as an opportunity to be with him, or to try and win him back. I was used to pitying myself—I had twelve years of practice—so I let myself be forgotten in their wake.

**7 March, 1997 16:05**

I stared at the invitation. _12 July, 1998._ So it was really happening. Tonks and Remus were getting married. If I told myself enough times, I would believe I was happy for him, that I was alright with any possibility of rekindling our relationship to be over.

_We’re not meant for each other. She’s better for him. She makes sense._

I gritted my teeth and tried not to think of the similarities between me and Tonks. She was funny, liked adventure, and was more energetic and talkative than Remus. If she was more different from me, I could say that he was really meant for someone else. But why be with the female version of me when he could just have _me?_

**_5_ June, 1998 11:58**

_Dear Sirius,_

_I know you’ve kept to yourself for the most part since the war ended. I don’t know entirely why (I can only guess it’s to do with being in Azkaban for so long, even though that was years ago), I have an opportunity that might help. As you probably heard me say at one time or another, Charlie has been growing distant, and I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone and see if you wouldn’t like getting away. I asked him a couple months ago and it’s taken him this long to respond—he agreed, of course._

_There’s only a week or so before the wedding, so I thought you’d leave whenever you’re ready this week and return before the 12th. Anyhow, I’d appreciate it if you could get an idea of how dangerous it is—I know I shouldn’t worry, he’s old enough to take care of himself, but it looks like he may spend the rest of his life with dragons, so it’s only fair I know what he’s gotten himself into. Write back to let me know what you decide._

_Sincerely,_

_Molly_

**8 June, 1998 19:49**

Charlie counted up the payment for the dragon scales, then nodded at the vendor and we started back down the street. “Let’s go for drinks. After coming so close to death, you deserve it.”

“Oh, I thought near-death encounters with dragons were reward enough, but if you insist…”

Charlie put his hand on my shoulder, and we Disapparated.

When we reappeared, we were at the back door of a pub. When we entered, I looked around; as a Muggle pub, it was rather unremarkable, but lively nonetheless. Charlie ordered us both a drink in Romanian, then explained, “It’s a local brew.” We took our beers to one of the tables in the back.

As we talked, I realized how much of an enigma Charlie really was. He clearly didn’t spend much time interacting with people, but I vaguely remember hearing he was popular in school, so he possessed the quality of someone who knew how to act to be liked, but chose to be himself. After we talked about our lives after the war, I could sense him relaxing.

“So Molly tells me you’ve been mostly alone out here.”

Charlie huffed. “She always says that as if it’s a bad thing. She’s used to being surrounded by friends and family and doesn’t realize not everyone wants to live like her.”

“She asked me to report back on how you’ve been doing, you know.”

Charlie nodded. “I’m not surprised. To be honest, that’s why I took so long to respond. I wasn’t ready to have her know what I was doing, and there were some rather dangerous operations then.”

“So this is the first time you’ve had someone visit you?”

“I’ve had people visit, but you’re the first to stay with me. It took me at least all day last Sunday to clean; I’m not used to company.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked behind me, around the bar. “We need to get you laid.”

Charlie looked at me, amused, then turned red. “I thought you were joking.”

I smirked. “I would never.”

With a resigned glance at me, he searched the room. “What do you think about her?”

I followed his gaze. “She’s pretty. But I’m not interested in women, so don’t take my word for it.”

“Oh.” Charlie blinked. “Then…?”

I glanced over at a younger bloke who I’d caught eying me earlier.

“Oh!” Now he knew what I meant.

I studied his reaction to see if he was repulsed. Would he ask me to leave? As I worked it over in my mind, I told myself that I wouldn’t want to spend time with someone who had a problem with my sexuality. Finally, I couldn’t handle the silence, so I said, “I didn’t take Molly up on her suggestion because of that. You needn’t worry, I’m not interested in you.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought you were.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Oh?”

I looked back at the woman. “I mean, I bet if you bought her a drink, she’d sleep with you.”

Charlie downed the rest of his drink. “Either your insulting her, or complimenting me.”

I laughed. “Alright, well, take it how you’d like.” I set my drink down and thought for a moment. “You know, I could see how this lifestyle would make it hard to be with someone, let alone have friends.”

Charlie nodded, then shot me a pointed look. “I suppose I’ll just have to see.”

**14 June, 1998 18:14**

We had gone to the bar every night, primarily because I needed alcohol to acclimate to the intensity of the work.

After I polished off my first beer, I told Charlie, “This has been the best week I’ve had since…well, in a long time.”

Charlie smiled. I couldn’t tell if he agreed with me or was simply acknowledging my sentiment. “I’m sure it’s been nice to get away. It’s a different sort of excitement over here.”

“Yeah.” I felt a swell in my chest as I studied the freckles on his face. I could only compare it to the intimacy of Remus’ scars.

Charlie noticed me staring and averted his eyes. “You’re welcome to stay longer, if you’d like.”

“How long is longer?” I ordered us two more drinks.

“However long you want.” Charlie tried meeting my gaze.

“You haven’t had enough of me by now?”

Charlie shook his head. “Course not.”

“Alright, then you’re stuck with me.”

Charlie smirked. “Alright.” He took a sip of his drink. “Why don’t we go over the plan for tomorrow?” He took out the map he’d been using to plot his progress over the years. “I’ve covered about twenty percent of the Maramures Mountains…” he pointed at _Munții Maramureșului_. “We should probably pick back up there tomorrow and see if we can find a Romanian Bluefire. I haven’t had a chance yet to track their nocturnal patterns, and there’s a full moon tomorrow, so we’ll have plenty of light.”

At the mention of the full moon, my mind jumped to Remus, and I forced the thoughts down with my drink. “Yeah, good plan.”

“Teodora thinks there’s a nest here.” Charlie traced his finger to the highest point in the mountains. “So we’ll have to check it out, see if she’s right before we bring more people to the site.”

The next evening, we Apparated to the SPFB (Scamander Post for Fantastic Beasts) at the base of the mountains range. _“Animalele Fantastice Post,”_ the sign read. We grabbed two of the enchanted canteens from the rack inside before Apparating to the edge of the mountain range’s protective enchantment.

“So what do Muggles see if they go here?” I stared up at the gaping cavern before us, then turned my gaze down the side of the mountain.

“They’d think they reached the top, and would go back down. In other areas, it’d make them believe it’s impossible to climb.”

We adjusted our detecting gear, then started in the first cave. It took several hours just to scour one, and although we didn’t find any dragons, we had evidence that one had lived there.

In the second cave, we were luckier. About ten minutes in, a dragon lumbered out of the darkness and into the light of our wands. We stood still, waiting to see who would make the first move.

“Sirius,” Charlie whispered. “I think she may be protecting her young.”

I looked past the dragon, but couldn’t tell. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’m gonna Apparate and take a look. You distract her.”

If only we had James’ Invisibility Cloak. “Okay. Count of three? One…two…” At three, I sprinted in the opposite direction. With a roar, the dragon followed suit. The cave lit up with her fire, and flames caught on my jacket. Just as I glanced back, I heard a crack next to me, and Charlie grabbed my hand. We Disapparated.

I felt the fire at my back for the agonizing fifteen seconds we traveled, and as soon as we reappeared in the flat, I stripped my jacket off.

“Shit, Sirius, I didn’t realize—” Charlie glanced at me, then grabbed a fire jar and let some blue flames creep inside before extinguishing my clothes.

We stood in silence for a moment. When the shock wore off, I said, “Well, that was successful, wouldn’t you say?”

Charlie burst out laughing, and though I tried to grin, it turned more into a grimace at the pain in my back.

He noticed. “Are you okay? Let me see what I have for your burn, it’s a different kind of fire, so I didn’t know how to protect us…” Charlie rifled through his store of potions. “Anyhow, she did have two babies. One was born with a mutated wing, we’ll have to take him in before the mother stops feeding him. How bad do you think your burn is?”

I gingerly peeled off my shirt and turned so he could see my back. When there was silence, I turned round to see what he was doing. He was focused on reading the labels. I cleared my throat.

Charlie looked up and blinked. “Sorry, I was…” I turned back around and could hear him put down the bottles. “I suppose I should see it first.” I heard him approach, but his voice got quieter. “Your back is red from the heat, so it’s hard to tell…” He trailed off. _“Accio O-2!”_

“O-2?”

“Orange serum—orange for the color of the flame, 2 for the 2nd degree burns.” He uncorked the bottle and began to apply the serum, sending tiny shivers through me. “Anyway, what can I say? I like things organized.”

“That’s a lie. This room is awful, I haven’t seen anything organized since I’ve been here.” Already, my pain had ebbed.

“I only said I _liked_ things organized.” I heard Charlie reseal the bottle and set it on the table next to us. “Besides…you’ve been a bad influence.”

When I turned around to protest, Charlie kissed me.

I almost pulled away in surprise, but he placed his hands on either side of my head and drew me in closer. His touch was warm, and I relished his urgency—

“Wait,” Charlie said, pushing me back lightly, eyes hazy with desire. “You should know…I’m a virgin.”

I titled his face back toward mine. “Hang on, how old are you?”

“Twenty-five. And…”

“I’m thirty-eight. So you’ve never…?”

Charlie shook his head.

“And you want to…?”

Charlie nodded and kissed me again.

**12 July, 1998 8:52**

I glanced up. Harry had walked into the kitchen, looking dazed. “Hello, Harry. It’s been, what? Two months?” I hugged him, then held him at arms length. “I think this is the first time you haven’t grown.”

Harry chuckled.

Molly walked in. I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely cheery, or forcing it. “Good morning, you two. We’ve got our work cut out for us today. Sirius, what time did you and Charlie get in last night?”

I poured myself a cup of coffee. “I dunno, after midnight.”

Molly charmed the cleaning supplies to clean the dishes, then asked, “Are you planning on returning to Romania this summer, or are you all dragon-ed out?”

I set down my mug and crossed my arms. “Actually, I’m going back this Thursday.”

Molly accidentally broke the glass she had been in the process of charming, then sighed and repaired it. “That soon? You just came back.”

“It’s my job, Molly.”

“I know, I’m only saying, you’ve…” she thought for a moment, then lowered her voice, “…you’ve hardly been around for Harry recently.”

I scoffed. “Is that really what this is about?”

Molly hesitated, glancing at Harry, who got the cue and left the room. After craning her neck to make sure Harry was gone, she continued, “You made it seem like you’d be a father to him.”

“Harry’s old enough to take care of himself, that’s not what this is about. You think—” I stopped and looked behind her.

Molly turned around, then beamed. “Charlie!”

“Hello, Mum.”

Charlie hugged his mum, then smirked at me and hugged me, too, more tightly.

Molly put her hands on her hips, sour. “We need to set up the tent. Charlie, why don’t you get the kids to help, I need to talk to Sirius.”

Charlie glanced at me. “Alright.”

Once he was gone, I said, “Molly, just be honest. What is all this really about?”

Molly put her hand on her hip. “Fine. I don’t condone what’s going on between you and Charlie. You’re much too old—”

“Molly, calm down, it’s not what you think. If it were, though, Remus is just as many years older than Tonks.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Sirius! He’s my son, and you can’t go on confusing him, understand?”

I shook my head in disbelief and pushed past her. “Completely.” _If his own mother wouldn’t accept us, or even our individual sexualities…was there hope for anyone else?_

 

At dinner, Charlie rested his hand on mine. At first, I glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, then I let it stay there.

Farther down the table, Molly scanned the attendants, then said, “It’s about time for the dessert—”

“I’ve got it, Molly.” I stood.

“I’ll help him,” Charlie offered, a bit quickly.

Molly didn’t have a chance to reply before we slipped away.

As soon as we were in the kitchen, I said, “Your mom doesn’t want me to be around you. This morning she essentially told me that I’m turning you gay.”

“That’s my fault. I’ve tried to explain I’ve just never been interested in relationships, but with you…”

“That’s the problem, I’d think. The one time you fancy someone, it had to be me.”

Charlie pocketed his wand. “Look, I still want you to come back to Romania, Sirius. My mum—”

“She doesn’t know what’s best for you.”

“She means well, Sirius.” Charlie took my hands. “But I…I know what I want.”

I studied Charlie for a moment, then kissed him, weaving my hands into his hair. When I heard a creak in the room next to us, we broke apart.

Harry was in the doorway, his eyes wide. We looked at him, then at each other, unsure.

“I’m sorry, I saw,” Harry said abruptly.

I let go of Charlie’s hands. “Harry, I hadn’t planned for you to find out like this…”

“It’s okay. I’m happy for you. Seriously. I’ll leave you to it, then.” He shot us what seemed like a grimace, then headed back to the party.

Most people took to the dance floor after dessert. I told Charlie to go socialize a bit so Molly could cool off. As soon as he left, Harry approached me.

The cover band began to play a Weird Sisters song, so Harry had to nearly shout. “I couldn’t care less that you’re gay. You know that, right?”

I started to smile. “Really?”

“I only care that you’re happy. So go for it. Don’t pay attention to Charlie’s mum, or anyone.”

I grinned broadly and swayed a little to the music. “You’re better than your father in some ways, you know that?”

Harry smiled in return and mixed back into the crowd. I found Charlie and pulled him over to dance with me. After four or five drinks, we had tired ourselves out.

Breathing a bit heavily, but bright-eyed, Charlie motioned to the refreshment table. “I’m gonna get some more drinks.”

I noticed Remus approaching me, so I said, “I’ll meet you in a second. Oh, and let’s talk to your mum tonight, okay? About us.”

Charlie smiled and kissed me before heading over to the refreshments.

Remus squeezed through a patch of dancers before reaching me. “Hi, Sirius.”

“Hey, Remus.”

Remus’ eyes strayed in Charlie’s direction. “So you and Charlie are together, now, then?”

I tried to read his expression, searching for the merest tinge of jealousy. He seemed genuinely pleased. “We’re together, yeah. I understand, now, what you thought about the age thing between you and Tonks, but I think we’re about past it…he’s great.”

“Well, I’m glad.”

Charlie reappeared, drinks in hand. “How’re you, Remus? I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you, so: congratulations.”

“Thank you, Charlie.”

Remus glanced at me, and with that look I could tell he knew I hadn’t told Charlie the full details of my former relationship with him.

I put my arm around Charlie. “The reception’s been lovely,” I said, daring Remus to give something away.

“It was a lot of work, but thanks to everyone’s help, it turned out really well.” His eyes lit up. “I’m happy.”

We looked at each other. I realized Remus wanted me to believe him, to move on, to stop playing games to make him jealous.

“I’m glad.” Keeping a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, I leaned forward and kissed Remus on the cheek. “Take care, okay?”

Remus nodded, pain now flickering across his face.

I turned my attention to Charlie. “C’mon, let’s talk to your mum.”

Molly was still at the head table with some of the older members of the Order when we approached her.

“Can we talk?” Charlie said.

Molly studied our expressions, and, sensing his seriousness, nodded.

“I thought I should tell you explicitly that Sirius and I are seeing each other.”

Molly’s face reddened, but she didn’t raise her voice. “For how long?”

“Since the first week in Romania.”

“Are you gay, then?”

Charlie glanced at me. “I haven’t really been interested in relationships before. I don’t really know. I suppose, I—well, I haven’t been attracted to a woman yet.”

Molly furrowed her brow. “Then why Sirius?”

I gritted my teeth. “It’s not like I’ve got him under a spell, Molly. I’m not some sort of predator.”

“But you _are_ gay?”

“Yes.”

“Who else have you been with? How come you know and Charlie doesn’t?”

Charlie answered before I could. “There isn’t just one or the other, two options everyone tics off, Mum. Just like every person is different, every person’s sexuality is different.”

That idea seemed to take root with her. She looked back at me. “But you don’t _seem_ gay.”

Charlie replied again, “That’s nothing to do with him, it’s how you think we should act.”

Molly opened her mouth to protest, then caught herself. “You’re right, love.” She uncrossed her arms and sighed. “I suppose I—this all came as a shock to me, and I felt like you didn’t make it a big deal, and it got me thinking that I should’ve known by now—your own mother—”

Charlie hugged her. “That’s the thing, though: I haven’t fancied anyone else. Maybe the timing helped, but it’s Sirius, Mum.”

Molly turned to me, a little reproachful.

“I don’t mean he turned me gay, that’s not how it works. So if you don’t like him for that…well, don’t _not_ like him for that.”

I smiled before considering how big-headed I probably looked to her with that expression. “Look, I’m not any happier that I fancy Charlie than you are.” I glanced at Charlie, smirking. “But he seems to think I’m okay, maybe better than dragons—”

“Let’s not get carried away, now,” Charlie interrupted, nudging me.

“…Almost as good as dragons—”

“Right.”

“…and that’s what matters.”

Molly looked between us, then cracked and pulled us both into a hug. “I’m sorry, loves.” She pulled away, then glared at me. “Keep him safe for me, alright? Charlie on his own is dangerous, but with you…the world might not be ready.”

Charlie laughed, relieved. “Alright, Mum.”

She smiled at him. “Right, let’s get back out there. I still have a bit of dance left in me.”

I pretended that, as I danced, I was letting go of Remus. I drank heavily enough that, somehow, I became convinced that I was casting the Memory Loss Charm. Part of the process was dancing so close to Charlie that I felt as though I were falling into him, energy flowing between us. I pressed my forehead to his, hands around his neck. A pulsing in my throat told me not to be this close, but it only encouraged me.

In the midst of the pounding music, the swirl of bodies, I kissed Charlie, slowly. His mouth twisted from a grimace to a smile beneath mine, and he was still smiling when I pulled away.

I looked around. Whispers quivered through the crowd, but I dully searched for reactions from those I cared about. Harry and Ginny were quelling the stares of the other guests, and while Tonks grinned at us, Remus just stared in shock.

At first, a thrill of pleasure at his jealousy shot through my body. But at second blurry thought, I realized his expression was because he had always wanted to be out, whereas I insisted to keep our relationship secret. I pretended to be oblivious to his gaze and rubbed a thumb over Charlie’s stubbly jaw, conveying to everyone the nature of our relationship.

 

That night, after Charlie and I had gone to bed, there was a soft knock at the door. I glanced at Charlie, who had already fallen asleep. What if it was Remus? My heart pounded from a mix of adrenaline and dread.

I crawled quietly out of bed and went to the door. “Who is it?” I whispered.

“Harry.”

Relieved, I opened the door and slipped out of the room.

Harry hadn’t changed into his pajamas, and his eyes darted around the hall. “Can we go somewhere private? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Are you okay?” A thought struck me. “Is this—is this about what you saw earlier?”

“I’m fine, and no, not really. It’s not an emergency. Ginny’s gone to Hermione’s room to give us space to talk.”

I couldn’t read him. It was clear he was uncomfortable, but was that because he now knew that I was attracted to men?

Harry motioned for me to sit down next to him, and breathed in deeply before saying, “This might be confusing. Well, I expect it to be confusing.”

“Okay…”

“Just trust that I’m telling the truth, alright? Severus and Raven can tell you I’m being honest.”

_How had they known before me?_ I rested a hand on Harry’s arm. “You can tell me.”

He nodded, pausing as though he might reconsider, then cleared his throat. “I…changed time. Dumbledore left me his Time-Turner, and I went back in time, and I didn’t mean to change things this much, but it happened anyway.”

I studied him. He seemed to be telling the truth, but I didn’t know what to say.

“In the time I’m originally from, you died in ’96. And two years later, in the months after we brought down Voldemort, I was depressed. I didn’t understand what my role in the world was, I was tired all the time, and I had trouble motivating myself to do anything. Then Ginny gave me a Time-Turner Dumbledore had left for me—well, I didn’t know it was his at the time—and I decided to find peace with everything I had to meet my parents, and try to…Oh, hang on, I should explain this, too—in my timeline, Severus was killed, and afterward I found out he’d been protecting me all along, and he loved Lily, and I wanted to help him…” He took a breath. “Let me just explain what my timeline was like.”

Harry described everything from his childhood before he had altered time, and though at first I frequently interrupted with questions, eventually I was wrapped up in the story.

“…That brings us back to the Time-Turner. I went back to just before your first year at Hogwarts. I disguised myself as Jacob Walker; changed my hair, glasses, and even my eye color; I expected that whatever I changed would stay changed. That wasn’t the case. Anyway, I became a part of your life as a kid—”

“You’ve met us?”

Harry smirked. “Well, you hated me.”

I faltered. “No. Why?”

“I was friends with Severus. And Lily, and Raven. That was the second biggest change, I think, other than me being there: Severus and Raven were sorted into Gryffindor. They still went into the Dark Arts for a time, but they eventually left.”

“You can’t be serious. Snape left the Dark Arts?”

Harry stared at me. “You didn’t see the signs when he was a kid?”

I blinked. “What signs?”

“I mean, do you know why he joined the Dark Arts?”

“Because his mum hadn’t taught him to wash his hair?” I expected Harry to laugh, but he didn’t. I cleared my throat. “The other version of you, the one I knew—he would get annoyed when I said things like that. But he never gave me the look you’re giving me now.”

Harry lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry.” He stood up and began to pace. “You know how you can’t forget how Severus was when you were kids?”

I nodded slowly. “You can’t forget how I was.”

“Now I understand why you’ve always been so angry with Severus. You know him too well. You can tell most of him hasn’t changed.”

I considered this for a moment. Could Harry say the situations were the same?

“It’s hard because…well, I’m just glad you’re alive. I don’t want to get caught up on details. But anyhow, both you and Severus tried to escape the part of themselves they hated. You didn’t want to be associated with the Dark Arts, or Voldemort, and Severus didn’t want to be associated with weakness.”

I chewed this over. “That’s simple. He didn’t have to join the Dark Arts to be powerful.”

“But his personality didn’t fit well in Gryffindor. Even when he wasn’t in the Dark Arts, when he was in Gryffindor, people didn’t like him. And, look, he’d probably hate me for telling you this, but…his dad was abusive. I mean, your parents were probably similar, except—Tobias, Severus’ dad, pissed their money away on alcohol, and…” Harry breathed in deeply. “Well, when I say abuse, I mean he beat them, but also he…” Harry stopped staring at his fidgeting hands to look at me.

I shook my head, not understanding.

“He sexually abused Severus and his mum.”

My breath caught a little. “Oh. Are you sure? I thought Severus’ mother was a witch—”

Harry’s expression darkened. “She would make potions to calm Tobias, prevent it from being as bad as it could be, but he hated magic, and whenever he realized what she was doing, Severus would suffer.”

I hesitated, knowing how Harry might react, then said, “But I can’t forgive Snape because of that. I saw what he confessed to in the _Daily Prophet_ , for Christ’s sake. He told Voldemort about the prophecy, he’s the reason James and Lily were killed, and he hates me even though I have never fucked up to the degree he has—”

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but you should try.” Harry gritted his teeth. “He regrets that time of his life more than anything. And know, because of what I learned in the timeline, that it didn’t have to be that way. When I was there, and he was in Gryffindor, he gave up the Dark Arts. Look, you both have to set the past aside. I’ve talked to him too, and he’s just as stubborn. But with time, and I suppose if I mediate…it’s possible.”

“Even if we put the past aside, you realize he’ll still be the same unemotional, homophobic…” Something clicked into place in the back of my mind. Years of abuse, and from his father, no doubt—

Harry pressed his lips together. “Now you understand why he is the way he is, don’t you?”

“He’s homophobic because of his father, and what he—” I was sick at the thought.

Harry smiled slightly, pleased I’d caught on, but still grim at the subject. “He’s uncomfortable with touching—intimacy in general, but I suppose with men, that could be why…as far as being unemotional, that’s more complicated.”

We sat in silence for a while, thinking.

Then Harry cleared his throat. “Sirius, this may be a bit uncomfortable to talk about, but when I was in the past, I found out you fancied my dad.”

I froze. “What?”

Harry flushed. “James was harassing Lily on Valentine’s Day, so we gave him this chocolate that made him fall in love with the first person he saw: you. And when he kissed you, you kissed him back, because you didn’t know about the potion—and as time went on, it was more clear. At one point, James asked me—shit, sorry, I keep forgetting I haven’t explained everything yet; I told James I was his son. He knew who I was. So he asked me if you were with anyone in my time. I think he was starting to fancy you back. But I left before anything else could really happen…”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Your dad and I, we…I’m not sure how to describe our friendship.”

“It seemed like, if he were gay, you two would’ve…” Harry picked at a piece of lint on his trousers. “I dunno, you two made more sense together than him and Lily.” 

Anger blazed through me. “You’re wrong. If you had known them when they were together, you wouldn’t say that.”

Harry was taken aback. “I’m sorry.”

We sat in an awkward silence for a minute before I finally said, “I didn’t mean to snap. It’s only that—well, he said that to me once. More than once, actually. But if we had been together, we would’ve gotten ourselves killed. We were both too…intense.”

“He was killed anyway, and with Lily. You wouldn’t have made a difference.”

I nearly started to scold him, but James and Lily were his parents, after all. “You shouldn’t think they didn’t love each other. James just couldn’t always settle for one person.” I caught myself. “What I’m trying to say is, your dad, much like me, wanted to live life as much as he could.”

“I know,” Harry said.

I thought I saw his eyes shine a bit, so I changed the subject. “What about Remus?”

“What do you mean?”

“We weren’t…?”

Harry blinked. “No, I don’t think…no, there was nothing really between you two like that. I assumed he only fancied girls. Why, is that not how it was in your time?”

“Remus and I were together until I went to Azkaban. Since sixth year at Hogwarts.” What he’d started to say earlier about James starting to fancy me back sunk in. Before I could ask how he knew James felt the same way, Harry said—

“There has to be a reason why it was different for me. Did Remus fancy Lily in your time?”

“For a little while, yeah.”

“What about Raven?”

“Raven? Not until they taught at Hogwarts together.” I thought back to my Hogwarts years. “But they did snog in sixth year once—twice. At a party.”

“Well, they were together for a while in the time I knew.”

I realized why he wanted to know. “So if he had Raven at Hogwarts, then he wouldn’t have been interested in me.”

Harry mulled this over. “That had something to do with it, but more than that, it was because he didn’t spend as much time with you. He sometimes preferred to be with me, Lily, Severus, and Raven, maybe not more time with you all, but I think he didn’t depend on you and James as much for validation. I think he saw that you all were kind of knobheads compared to us.”

I couldn’t help the cold shivers down my spine. I felt a bit sick. I’d had the delusion—albeit a suppressed one—that Remus and I were meant for each other. Obviously it could never’ve worked out. How much more proof did I need?

“I assumed you were with Charlie to move on from James. Is it actually…Remus?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “No one besides Tonks and Charlie knows about me and Remus. And even then, it’s not much.”

“What happened in your timeline with Remus, exactly?”

I told Harry as much as I felt to be appropriate; Remus and I were both initially confused about our feelings, I was also involved with James, and how not trusting Remus during the War fucked up our relationship. Then I went to prison, and when I came back, Remus was with Raven. “…By now I have moved on, though.”

Harry’s eyes darted slightly, as though memories lay on the bedcovers for him to search. “I suppose…I never really thought of you and him in that way, but in the original timeline, you lived together after you escaped Azkaban, I think.” The thoughts came to him more quickly now. “And in my time, Remus didn’t originally return Tonks’ feelings until a year after you died. It seemed to be just because of his age, and his being a werewolf, but it makes sense now that he didn’t think he could be with her—or anyone—after you.”

My heart pounded, hopeful. “In this timeline…it’s similar. Remus fancied—well, fell in love with—Raven, and they were on and off until she ended it in the summer of ’96…you would’ve been in fifth year.”

“Why’d they split up?”

“Remus hasn’t told me. It was for the best, though, we aren’t right for each other.”

“Why?”

“We’ve always been each other’s second choice.” When I noticed Harry’s skepticism, I explained, “There’ve been so many signs that it wouldn’t work out. My distrust, my relationship with James even when we were seeing each other, and him moving on to be with women.”

“It matters that he was with women?”

I felt my face grow hot. “I suppose it shouldn’t, you’re right.”

Harry fidgeted. “Sirius, I don’t want you to hate me because of what I tell you next.”

A chill swept through me. “I couldn’t hate you, Harry.”

“I still have to explain everything, but for now—in our fifth year at Hogwarts, 1976, Lily and Severus got together. I helped them get together.”

I felt nauseous. “How? Why would you…?”

“I owed it to Severus. For hating him for so long, for how James treated him…And James wasn’t right for Lily. I’m sorry if you think they were, and maybe eventually they would be, but once Severus renounced the Dark Arts, it made sense. The night they—they met up, sealed their fate, it prevented me from being born, so the universe I’d created started to fall apart. And after I undid everything, I had one last idea for how I could change things.” Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of parchment. “I wrote a letter to Raven and to myself. I gave Raven her letter on 17th September, 1981. I don’t have it with me, but essentially I told her to go to Hogwarts to ask for a job because her life was in danger.”

“Was Raven actually in danger, or did you make that up?”

“She was going to be killed a few hours later. Have you heard about her switching sides?”

“Yes.” I exhaled, slowly. “Is that why you asked me not to hate you? Because without you, Raven and Remus wouldn’t have been together, and he and I…?”

“Yeah. It’s difficult because without me, you and Remus would still be dead. But at least he wouldn’t be with someone else…” He searched me for an opinion.

“It’s a lot to process, but you’re right I—I should be happier, knowing the alternative. And I’m not angry with you.” A thought struck me: How would Remus react if he knew about the change in time? “Are you going to tell Remus?”

Harry mulled it over. “I should, but—he has his life figured out. I don’t want to fuck things up for him. I mean, I told my friends and Raven because I had to, and I told Severus because I wanted him to move on with his life. And I didn’t tell Remus who I was when you all were kids, so I have no idea how he’d react now.”

“Why’ve you told me, then?”

“Because…” He searched for a response. “Because you died, and I had questions…”

“Remus would want to know, Harry. Especially because he’s alive now because of you. Knowing he’s been given a second chance, a better life, that would motivate him, I’m sure.”

“But then he’d have to tell Tonks, wouldn’t he? I mean, it wouldn’t be healthy to keep that from her, and I don’t feel comfortable with her knowing. Then everyone might as well know.”

“Why shouldn’t anyone else know?”

“I’ve learned that it’s not—it’s not right to feel like things don’t have to be the way they are. If people knew they had the power to change the past, then sooner or later everyone would want a Time-Turner. It could start another war. And, more than that, even, I’d be killed. Hardly anyone would agree to tampering with time as much as I have. Who knows how many people I’ve prevented from existing in the future, regardless of who I’ve saved? So it’s best for as few people to know as possible.”

The next morning, Raven approached me, and I now recognized that her standard expression toward me, previously that of indifference—coldness, even—had shifted to something more genuine, interested.

“Sirius, we should get drinks tonight.”

I raised an eyebrow.

She pulled me aside, voice lowered. “Harry told you. There are some things we should discuss, wouldn’t you think?”

I nodded reluctantly.

Raven assessed my face, then relaxed, though now appearing more solemn. “I should’ve talked to you a long time ago. My relationship with Regulus and Remus—there is a lot, no doubt, that we can relate to, especially now, knowing what we know.”

Despite agreeing to drinks, I felt uncomfortable at the idea of spending time alone with Raven in light of my talk with Harry. Would she want to discuss Remus?

She chose an entirely different subject. “I should start with your brother.”

I wasn’t conscious that I had clenched my fist on the table in front of me until Raven glanced down at it, wary. I cleared my throat. “Sorry. I know you told Harry about the locket, how Regulus betrayed Voldemort.”

“That’s right. But you never heard it from me.”

I sat back in my seat, indicating for her to continue, but hesitant to listen. It was painful to know Regulus died before I learned of his innocence. We never had a chance to reconcile.

Raven took a small sip of firewhiskey, more as a formality than to steel herself, before beginning her story. “As you know, Regulus and I were close friends. He became my best friend, and for a while, he considered me the same. Nobody in the Dark Arts can rightly be called kind, but he was the closest to it. I was a Hufflepuff, which most consider to be the opposite of Slytherin house, yet he accepted me, and I him. Looking back on it, and I suppose the purpose of telling you, is that there was at first a sort of innocence to it. I could only see it later on, but Regulus didn’t have his whole self poured into the Dark Arts.”

She paused to allow me to interject, so I said, “He seemed sincere enough about it.”

“To you, sure. Part of the reason I left the Dark Arts is that he—rather suddenly—became passionate about joining Voldemort. That was the summer after you left home, you see.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“I suppose…” Raven frowned, collecting her thoughts. “In the way that you chose to go against the Dark Arts to spite your parents, he went with the Dark Arts to spite you.”

She watched as I considered the legitimacy of her claim. “You’re saying that because I ran away, he joined Voldemort?”

“Not exactly. But, well, it’s common for one sibling to follow the rules and for the other to break them. Because your personalities were so different, it was bound to happen. Some people have their fates predetermined for them, making it only natural that they join the Dark Arts. Like Severus. Both he and Regulus defied their fates.”

I grunted, unwilling to argue the differences between my brother and Snivellus. No good one-line retorts came to mind, and I preferred to listen than drag out the conversation.

“Anyhow, he convinced himself the Dark Arts gave him a purpose, but as soon as he faced the reality of it, he realized otherwise. By the time he showed up at the safe haven—the one I founded for runaways, as you know—he was set on taking down Voldemort.”

“Why did you believe him?”

Caught off guard by the question, Raven considered this. “He didn’t have proof. I was about to turn him away, already panicking at the thought of having to find a new hiding place, when he told me to use Veritaserum on him. Knowing he wasn’t nearly a good enough Legilimens for him to lie under its influence, I had to trust that it worked. I thought—” She ducked her head in embarrassment. “I thought he was trying to seduce me, catch me off guard. If his intentions had been to betray me, he would’ve succeeded in doing so. I was young, still naive, and lonely…it could have come crashing down.”

We sipped our drinks in silence, both painfully aware that she was skirting the details of her relationship with Regulus.

“Anyhow,” Raven continued, “In those two weeks, he confessed a lot to me. He knew he might die, but didn’t admit it.” She studied me. “He didn’t talk about you that much, because he had no reason to think I’d ever be able to convey what he wanted to say to you, you know, but I can tell you how he felt. He admired you. He thought you were a prick, sure, but whenever he mentioned you, he became intensely saddened. And although siding with Voldemort ultimately allowed him to help bring him down, he regretted that you pushed each other away.”

I blinked quickly to clear my vision. “He shouldn’t have—doing what he did, he shouldn’t have felt sorry. It’s my fault.”

“He didn’t give you much choice.” Raven hesitated. “You shouldn’t feel bad for pushing Regulus away for his involvement in the Dark Arts any more than how Lily shouldn’t feel bad for pushing Severus away for his involvement in the Dark Arts. Sure, both of you might have been able to convince the other to be better, but it’s unfair for Regulus or Severus to expect that of you or Lily, and they don’t—didn’t expect that of you.”

I was tired of picking apart the comparisons between Snape and myself, so I just fumed silently. Looking to sway her assuredness, I asked, “Why did you and Remus split up?”

Raven sighed, seeming to anticipate I would eventually ask her this. “It was my fault. I had feelings for someone else.”

I bristled with anger. Remus had chosen Raven over me, and she’d left him for someone else, in the end.

“And I knew if I ended things, he wouldn’t be alone.”

“Oh?”

“Tonks had feelings for him. I was right; they connected soon after, and it all seemed to work out. It did all work out.” She glanced up at me. “It’s hard to see someone reject someone you care about because it comes off as meaning they don’t care. I loved Remus, and I do care, and I know how lucky I was. But I also cared enough to know there was someone else I was meant for, and someone else he was meant for.”

“If he was meant for Tonks, who were you meant for?”

Before she replied, I realized what she was going to say. Harry had explained all of the relationships to me the night before. Remus had fancied Lily and Raven, Severus had fancied Lily, I had fancied James, Lily had fancied James and Severus, and Raven had fancied Remus and—

“Severus.”

I didn’t meet her eyes. “How has finding out about the alternate timeline changed that?”

“It’s impossible for it not to change anything. I know now there’s something at my core that connects me to both Remus and Severus.”

“Well, it doesn’t help my case.”

We had skirted the fact that I still had feelings for Remus. I knew Raven could tell, but neither of us wanted to explicitly discuss it. If I applied Raven’s interpretation of the timeline, it would mean James and I were meant for each other. My love for Remus was just a chance infatuation, not fate.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want the background for this chapter, check out Turning Time (under the same account as this).  
> Here's a short synopsis, though, a bit of with descriptive overlap from this chapter:
> 
> In 1998, a couple months after the Second War ended, Ginny gives Harry a Time-Turner with more rings than normal, making it easier to travel decades back in time.  
> Harry realizes he wants to try and improve Severus' childhood, and have a chance to meet his mother and the Marauders. He goes back to 1971, just before they start their first year at Hogwarts.  
> Harry, appearance changed and under the guise of Jacob Walker, sees how much Lily means to Severus and convinces him to tell the Sorting Hat that he wants to be in Gryffindor if he wants to have a chance with her. On the train, they meet Raven, and Harry gives her the same advice, except her motivation is to be friends with them.  
> Raven and Severus, despite being in Gryffindor, continued to follow the Dark Arts. Meanwhile, Remus becomes friends with Lily, "Jacob," Raven, and (kind of) Severus.  
> Harry's presence helps Severus, helps everyone, actually, but accelerates certain plotlines, including Severus calling Lily a Mudblood.  
> To convince Severus not to lose hope, and guide him to change his life for the better, Harry lets Severus use Legilimency to access his memories to see what will happen if he continues with the Dark Arts. Eventually, Severus follows Raven's lead and leaves the Slytherins.  
> James and Lily start to go out, but eventually break up, which leads to a slow chain of events that ends in Severus and Lily hooking up. Because this seals their fate together, it means Harry would not be born. Harry returns to the present day to tell himself not to go back in time, and before he fades out of existence, he gives the pre-time travel Harry his memories of the past five years.  
> Harry had discovered earlier that the Time-Turner belonged to Dumbledore, and Ginny confirms this; Dumbledore left him the device, anticipating that Harry would be depressed after the war (assuming he survived) and would need to discover that things were meant to be the way they played out in order to move on with his life.  
> Harry, however, has a new idea of how to change time. He anonymously writes two letters, one to Raven to save her life and tell her to take Professor Binns' place at Hogwarts, another to himself explaining Severus' childhood and why he needs to have absolute trust in him.  
> This creates a ripple effect that changes things for the better, saving virtually everyone from death, except Dumbledore. Harry merges times, which retains his conciousness and memories but not that of the Harry from the letter timeline. He tells the trio, Raven, and Severus about his experience, and they fill him in on the changes. The wedding takes place soon after this, and Turning Time concludes in the middle of it.
> 
> On September 17th, 1981 of this story, Sirius woke up with an odd sensation. That was from the timeline changing, the point at which the plot from the original series diverges.
> 
> Extra details from the timeline that Harry experienced:  
> Along the way, Harry separately tells James and Raven who he is; Harry finds out that Severus' father abused him and his mother; Raven and Remus have a relationship after Raven gets over her crush on Severus.


	11. Meant to Be

**8 December, 1999 16:47**

I took the letters from the owl at the window; one was from Harry, another from Hermione. I read Hermione’s first because it was lighter, and I wasn’t yet prepared to have Harry chastise me for not visiting enough.

_Sirius—_

_It’s been too long. Things here are fine, but we all miss you. Since the last time I wrote—that was four months ago, I think—we’ve repealed about thirty outdated laws and passed two new ones. We’ve continued to push for a law to prevent discrimination against werewolves and similar beings, but there’s still a lot of resistance._

_I’ve also meant to ask if you wanted to pursue same-sex marriage rights in Great Britain—have you heard about the Netherlands? The Muggle community there passed a marriage equality law two years ago, just five years after the wizarding community had. Severus has had a lot of success leading the child care programs, in part thanks to his reputation, so I’m sure if you (and Charlie?) led a movement for marriage equality, you’d get a law through in a few years. I’m not saying it would be easy, or that it’d mean you and Charlie would get married, but I would really like to help you if you were willing. Harry might mention it in his letter, too. It doesn’t have to be marriage, per se, there’s a few drafts of anti discrimination laws floating around that you could look at._

_Let me know what you decide, and I hope to see you soon,_

_Hermione_

I sighed. I appreciated her gesture, but decided I would just say that I was too busy. I opened Harry’s letter, excuses already running through my mind.

_Padfoot—_

_I know Hermione’s writing about the project she wants you to take on, so I can skip to the news: Severus and Raven are together now. He’s the reason she broke it off with Remus. It’s so odd to me; she had feelings for him in the timeline I experienced, and now this timeline…”_

“What’s Harry saying?” Charlie came in from the kitchen.

I angled it toward me. “I’m sorry, Charlie, it’s just between me and Harry. If I could tell you, I would.”

“Okay.” Charlie sat down across from me and set down his tea. “Is there anything in it you _can_ tell me about?”

“Well, it looks like Snape and Raven are together now. Or they have been, I suppose.”

“Really?” Charlie blinked.

“I haven’t finished reading it, but—”

“You’ve told me that he used to fancy Harry’s mother, yeah?”

“Yeah.” There was a lot I couldn’t say, like how Harry had expected Snape to give up on his mother after keeping him alive, and about my conversation with Raven about her feelings. I read on to myself, glancing up to make sure Charlie couldn’t see.

_…I’m not sure how much you care, considering your relationship with Severus, but I suppose my point is that he’s getting better. When you see him again, you wouldn’t recognize him. Sure, he still prefers to wear black, but he’s not nearly as irritable, and he almost seems more human now._

_I think they’ve—Raven and Severus—struggled with seeing each other as their second choices, but they’re more than that, I think. You’d understand._

I looked up at Charlie, who had opened up the paper. I studied his strong shoulders, his blue eyes, his calculated but open expression. I leaned forward and tugged him closer so we could kiss.

After we pulled away, he asked, smiling a bit, “What was that for?”

“I love you, that’s all.”

Charlie squeezed my hand, then kissed me on the forehead and rested back in his seat.

I continued to read, _If you ever wanted to amend things between you and Severus, now might be a good time. But only if you’re ready, otherwise it’d just make things worse. I could be there, if you preferred. If you found a way to at least be on civil terms, it would make everything I went through more meaningful._

I read the rest of the letter, which was roughly the same as what Hermione wrote, asking me to come back, then looked up at Charlie. “I think I’m going to spend a week at the Ministry.”

**11 December, 1999 18:06**

I looked up from my desk, then at the time. It was over an hour past five, and Raven and Snape were packing up their things to leave. Raven touched Snape’s arm lightly after wishing us a good evening, and they disappeared into the corridor.

“So what about them, then?” I asked Remus, once they’d left.

The corner of Remus’ mouth twitched, but he kept his composure. “Tonks says they’re not living together. But they’re in a relationship.”

I wanted to laugh, but the bitterness I felt toward them stifled any humor I might’ve felt. Everything worked out for Raven, despite her gambling Remus away, eventually trusting in destiny.

Remus sat back in his chair, eying me. “What is it? Look, you should act normal around them. With me, you can joke about it, but it’s hard for Raven, and I’m sure it is for Severus, too.”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but refrained. “Sure. Anyhow, how’s Teddy?”

Remus’ eyes flashed with annoyance. “He’s fine. But do you mean recently, or since he’s existed? You’ve never cared to ask before, so we’d have over a year of catching up to do.”

Startled, I held Remus’ gaze until he grew uncomfortable and averted his eyes. I searched for something to say. “Remus, I’m sorry, it’s just hard, because—because I still—” I cut myself short as Tonks entered the room.

Remus turned around, carefully, to face Tonks, who chatted in excitement about the day’s court ruling. His expression was hidden enough so she didn’t detect anything, but I could still tell he understood what I was going to say. And he resented me for it.

**12 December, 1999 17:42**

“Christ, Severus, why have you still got such a hatred for him?”

I stopped outside the door, leaning closer to hear what Raven and Snape were saying.

“Draco and Harry have come to terms with everything, and he was just as cruel to him, especially considering Harry didn’t retaliate.”

Snape—presumably it was Snape—growled in response with something that sounded like, “Not the same.”

“Still, can’t you move on? Wouldn’t you have wanted that from the people in your life, for them to look beyond your past? Do the same for Sirius, he deserves it as much as you do.”

There was a long pause, and I was just about to leave, thinking the conversation over, when the door opened and Snape stood in front of me, glowering. “I knew it. Couldn’t help listening in, could you?”

“I hadn’t planned on it—” I began, but Raven’s appearance around the door interrupted me.

“I’m going to settle this,” she said, managing to guide us both into the room.

Rather than wanting to talk it through, I said, “Fine. Snape, I forgive you for betraying James and Lily. My best friends.” My voice began to rise. “I’ll also forgive you for being such a prick to Harry and every other student who had the pleasure of having you as a professor.”

“How very generous of you,” Snape hissed. “And seeing as you want to be the bigger person here, I’ll forgive you for _attempting_ to make my life miserable, for trusting the fool Pettigrew with Lily’s life, for overlooking everything I have sacrificed for the Order and Harry. I have done more for both than you ever had.”

We both glared at each other before Raven said, “Right, well, before you quibble over who’s the better person, can I remind you both that the war is over thanks to both of your efforts. Both of you had awful childhoods and both of you have made mistakes. There’s no point in measuring up against each other, because it’s impossible to judge either of you as more or less deserving of forgiveness. Or anyone in the Order as more or less deserving.” She looked between us to make sure we were listening. “You have to assume that you can’t understand the choices of another person.” Speaking to me now, she added, “Harry would want things to to be right between you two, so it would mean a lot if you tried.”

Painfully aware of everything I could say to Snape, I managed a nod vaguely in his direction. “I hope it’s obvious that if we’re going to be on speaking terms, you can’t call me poofer behind my back.”

A twinge at the corner of Snape’s mouth betrayed his triumphant bemusement. “Simply making up for lost time. If I had known what you were when we were children, perhaps I wouldn’t have been so miserable.”

I scoffed. “If you had known I was having sex when you weren’t, that would have made you feel better about yourself?”

I had hit a nerve. Raven fidgeted, watching Snape in case he made a move for me. There was the unspoken understanding that Snape hadn’t had sex before Raven, and for the first time I felt more uncomfortable than proud.

Raven looked at Snape. “Give us a minute?”

Snape’s jaw tightened. The emotions running across his features took me by surprise; I was used to him taking my comments with a sneer, a glare, his expression unchanging. He swept out of the room.

Raven rubbed her temple. “Sirius, obviously I’m not objective about this. And I’m not going to tell you anything that would violate his trust.”

“Alright.”

She stepped closer to me, voice lowered. “Has Harry told you about his father? Why he’s been involved in child abuse legislation?”

I nodded, trying to seem bored.

“Well, that’s affected more aspects of his life than solely his attitude about you. So you have to stop assuming that he would’ve found it as easy as you to make the right choices, to fit into society, because if it had been as easy, he wouldn’t have made the wrong choices, been an outcast. It may help you feel better about yourself to see him as a wholly unlikable person, but you can’t rely on Severus to inflate your ego.” Realizing how cold her tone had become, Raven smiled slightly. “He can’t learn empathy if no one shows him empathy. I can’t do it alone, you know.” She held my gaze, imploring me, then went to the door and peered round. After what I presumed was several seconds of wordless negotiation, Snape returned, composed somewhat.

“Let’s try this again, alright?” Raven turned to me, shoulders sagging in exasperation. “Be honest with me, what’s preventing you from being civil with Severus?”

I was still jarred by our conversation, but after collecting myself, I replied, “He betrayed James and Lily. Though I can go on for hours—”

“Just that, for now,” she interrupted. “And you, Severus?”

“He tried to kill me,” he said evenly.

“That’s—” I began, then caught myself. The truth was embarrassing, and Snape could easily use it against me later. “I didn’t try to kill you for no reason.”

Snape scoffed. “I am sure you believe you had cause to kill me, but we may be in disagreement over the legitimacy of your reason.”

I shook my head. “You saw James and I, er, together.”

“Together?” The smirk threatened to return.

“Kissing, okay? And you threatened to tell the school unless I showed you where Remus went every month, and I didn’t want you to know the truth about either, so I planned to kill you. If everyone knew, my life—it would’ve been over. It seemed rational to kill you because it seemed so damned easy. But after James saved you, Remus erased your memory about the kiss.”

Snape mulled this over, and slowly something dawned on him. “Was James a poofer, too?”

Raven flinched as Snape said “poofer.” At first, I thought she was sensitive to the slur, but the hurt went beyond that. And in seeing again the hope in Snape’s eyes, I realized he wanted evidence that James and Lily to be wrong for each other. Raven wanted him to stop wondering “what if.”

“He wasn’t. He was just fu—messing around.” I suddenly wondered if Raven had told Snape about me and Remus, and if I should feel violated if she had.

Snape nodded, not looking at either of us. “I haven’t a simple explanation for why I told the Dark Lord the prophecy. Obviously, I had no idea it meant Lily’s son, or I never would have…It could have been Neville Longbottom, you know. The prophecy was meant for either of them, but the Dark Lord chose Harry…Longbottom was a constant reminder that if he had been chosen, Lily would be alive. I resented him for that. But my resentment was…misplaced. It was myself I resented.” Snape had seemed to forget that Raven and I were listening. “I found every reason to hate students. Either they reminded me of myself at their age, or they were reminders of what I was not.” He looked up at Raven. “It was no way to live.” He forced his gaze away from her to me. “I have dedicated the past eighteen years of my life to making up for the choices I made. I can never change what harm I caused. But…” He struggled to think of what to say to end his thoughts.

“Harry changed what you did. He showed it was possible.” I shifted on my feet. “So, there’s that.”

Severus looked at me in surprise. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Raven beaming, and cleared his throat.

“I doubt we’ll ever be friends,” I said.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “I hope not.”

“But I think I can put aside the past—without forgetting it, mind—as long as you agree to do the same.”

Severus relaxed a bit, smug that I caved first. “Fine.” He extended a hand to me.

I shook it, only able to oblige because I’d numbed myself to the reality. We hadn’t really resolved things, and there’d probably always be an awkwardness between us, but I was no longer instinctively inclined to be hostile.

**13 December, 1999 11:48**

“Remus Lupin, I am arresting you on suspicion of illegally distributing magical remedies in violation of IUMO Law Three. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.” The officer magically locked Remus’ hands behind his back.

I stood and hurried over. “Oy, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Step aside, Black.”

“Sirius—” Remus began, before they forced him forward.

I grabbed one of the officers’ arms. “No, look, Remus helped with the war. You can’t—”

They drew their wands. One glared at me as if to dare me to go further. “I advise you to stand back, or we’ll be forced to take you into custody.”

I gritted my teeth and put my hands up. “Alright. Okay.”

“Remus!” Tonks ran into the room. “What’s going on?”

“It’s going to be okay. Tell Teddy I love him. And I love you, too.” Remus looked as though he’d aged fifteen years.

“What?” Tonks said weakly.

“I’m sorry, Nymphadora.”

Tonks’ hair went white. He wouldn’t have used her full name if everything was going to be okay.

After they had left the room, she turned to me. “What the hell happened?”

“I honestly—I don’t know.”

“You need to look up the law they cited,” said Severus from his desk. He had hardly looked up through the entire ordeal.

I glanced at him. “Sure.”

He cocked his eyebrow at me. He wasn’t even trying to seem like he cared, but before my anger could boil over, Raven rushed in from where Remus had left.

“What’s Remus done? They were taking him away, they wouldn’t let me—”

“They arrested him.”

“Did they say why?” Raven’s surprise seemed to be more that they caught him than that he would commit a crime.

“Do you have an idea?”

Raven waved her hands helplessly. “I didn’t think much of it at the time, but—well, we started seeing each other after he worked for this company. He never gave me the name. He didn’t talk about it much. But he implied the work wasn’t legal. I didn’t think it was something so extreme that—” Her composure broke, and she had to stop talking.

“Law Three of the Improper Use of Magic Office…”

We jumped; we hadn’t noticed Severus come up behind us.

“…was adapted from the Wizards’ Council law created in response to the Great Plague…here is the part that concerns magical remedies: ‘No member of the wizarding community in Great Britain, by marriage or other association, may distribute a magical remedy to a non-magical person outside of the wizarding community without the express permission of the Wizengamot. Permission may be granted in the instance of a 2/3 majority vote in favor of the distribution.’” Severus scanned the pages. “If he was just a smuggler, nothing more, he will likely get a ten-year sentence and a 5,000 galleon fine. If he had more influence, the maximum sentence is forty years.”

Tonks shook her head, face now as pale as her hair. “No. They have to make an exception, for Christ’s sake! Kingsley has to see…”

Raven pulled Tonks into a hug and helped her to a chair.

Severus offered me the book, not directly looking at me.

I nodded, then, hands trembling, began to study.

**9 April, 2002 13:28**

****_Sirius—_

_I’m visiting Remus this weekend. You haven’t seen him since the trial ended (over a year ago, if you’ve lost track), so I thought you should come with me. And don’t give me a work excuse again, I know your schedule is flexible. Dragons don’t run on a timetable._

_I don’t know if you’re angry with Remus for not telling you, or if you think he doesn’t want to see you, or whatever, but at the very least you should write him. He could be dead, if I hadn’t changed the timeline, so you should make the most of him being alive. If his imprisonment depresses you, just imagine how he feels: five years in a cell without his family. You should be able to relate._

_Hope to hear back from you soon,_

_Harry_

I rested my head in my hands, then, blinking rapidly, took out a quill and parchment and wrote a reply.

_Dear Harry,_

_I don’t want to let you down, but I can’t see him. I know you can’t understand, but I’ll try to explain, because I don’t want you to ask again. Remus should focus on Tonks and Teddy. I’m just a distraction. Seeing him would make things harder for both of us, given our past. I don’t want to confuse him._

I tried to think of something else to say. I wanted to tell him—someone—that seeing Remus would undoubtedly stir up feelings I’ve tried to repress, but saying or writing it would only make it harder to ignore.

**18 November, 2003 20:05**

Charlie laughed as I struggled to prop myself on either side over him. “You’ve had a bit too much to drink, I think.”

“Oh, I agree. You know how I can tell?”

Charlie pulled me closer. “How?”

“Wine makes you look much hotter.” I held his hands down on the mattress.

“Is that so?” He brushed his lips on mine, teasing. “I wish that worked on you. Actually, no; then I’d be an alcoholic.”

“Take that back,” I whispered.

Charlie looked into my eyes. “Make me.”

Just as I leaned in to kiss him, there was a knock at the door.

I groaned and was about to get up when the door opened. I pulled the sheets over myself. “We’re not decent.”

The candles in the room lit up, and I could see it was Harry who stood in the doorway.

I couldn’t help laughing as Charlie rolled out from under me. “Sorry, Harry. You know about the birds and the bees, don’t you? Or the bees and the bees?”

Charlie giggled. “Course he does, he’s got a kid, doesn’t he?”

“You both need to come back.” Harry’s voice shook. “Tonks is dead.”

My heart stopped. “What?”

“The—the Office was attacked. Mad-Eye and Frank were killed, too—” Harry couldn’t continue; the events seemed to finally process.

Charlie blanched. “What about my family?” When Harry couldn’t answer, Charlie glanced at me.

I lowered my voice. “Let’s pack first.” We got dressed, then summoned all our things into our suitcases.

Charlie wrote a quick note in case anyone stopped by and left it on the desk. 

When we turned to Harry, ready to go, he said, “Charlie, your family’s okay. Only Angelina and your father were there at the time. Most people were on other assignments—they must’ve known Severus wasn’t there, or else they wouldn’t have dared…It all—it all happened so quickly—”

I had trouble keeping up. “When did it happen?”

“As soon as the Ministry sent a team down to reinforce the protection spells, I came here. An hour ago, maybe.”

I couldn’t bring myself to ask about Remus, but Harry offered the information anyway.

“Remus is still in prison. I think he knows by now. Andromeda is taking Teddy there next.”

I nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

Harry hesitated. “I don’t think you should, not yet.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not great timing, don’t you think? And you’re drunk.”

I bristled. “He’d want to feel like he hasn’t lost everyone he cares about!”

“He _has_ lost you! I get why you didn’t want to be around at first, but…you made your decision and you can’t suddenly come back into his life now that—”

“Now that what?”

Harry’s resolve broke. “Never mind.”

“I’ve moved on, Harry. I’m going to see him.”

Harry searched Charlie for a reaction, then huffed and led us to the fireplace.

After about thirty minutes of hopping from fireplace to fireplace, Apparating when possible, we reached the Weasley’s.

I hung back, a bit uncomfortable at the amount of sobbing and hugging. What Harry said about me being absent the past five years was true, and I could feel the same judgment from everyone in the room.

“Sirius, hello,” Raven said, hugging me briefly. Her makeup was smudged, and her eyes were red. “It’s been a while.”

I couldn’t help loathing her and her genuine anguish. Somehow it had been easy enough for her to move past her feelings that she could be best friends with Tonks and remain a part of their lives.

She wrinkled her brow. “What’s with you?”

“I’m a bit pissed.” I blinked, trying to focus. “Anyway, I’m sorry for your loss.”

Raven pressed her lips together and nodded, about to cry again.

I opened my arms, and she accepted. While she sobbed, I patted her hair awkwardly, waiting until she recovered before I asked, “Where’s Snape—er, Severus?”

“He—he and a couple others went to track the extremists down…we think they were from the WRO—Wizard Rights Organization. They’re against equality for centaurs and werewolves especially. They’ve threatened us before, told us to stop, but other than increasing security, we didn’t do anything…”

Others had trickled into the Weasley’s, speaking in whispers, some looking to or for comfort, some planning to join the hunt for the perpetrators.

Harry motioned me over. “We’re next to go visit Teddy and Remus. Andromeda told Remus already, but she’s waiting to tell Teddy. But he and I are close, so I thought I could help…” Harry teared up again.

“Why wouldn’t Remus tell him?”

“Teddy only knows Remus from his monthly visits.” Harry bit his lip, then exhaled, breath shaking. “Since the arrest, I’ve told myself it’s better than if Remus were dead. But now that Tonks died anyway, I—now I’m not sure. And I—maybe I fucked things up. I tried to—to make—to make things better, but—but…” He could no longer speak, sobs flowing in full force.

“It’s alright.” I held Harry tightly. His and Raven’s emotions were wearing me down. “You tried. It’s still better than it would’ve been. Teddy got to know his mother. You can’t ask for much else.” All Harry could do was nod. I rubbed his back a little, then pulled away. “Alright. C’mon, we’ve got to be strong for Remus and Teddy.”

We walked a couple rooms down to the fireplace. Harry grabbed some Floo Powder and tossed it in, entered the flames, then said, “Shatome Visitor Center,” and was gone. I followed.

I hadn’t visited Remus since he was first imprisoned. I had only seen Teddy a couple times since then, too. I convinced myself he didn’t want me to be in Teddy’s life, or to see me, but I doubted I was right. Still, I hadn’t even helped with his case—Snape had done more than I had.

Kingsley Shacklebolt met us outside the fireplace. “I’ve just met with the Wizengamot. They are considering a full pardon to Remus in light of what’s happened, and considering that the laws are being reformed, his sentence could be appealed. Of course they would only change things when the public expects to see mercy and government initiative.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry to you both. I knew there was resistance to the reforms, but this is despicable. We should have found a way to shut down those bloody organizations before something like this happened.”

“At least they went down fighting.”

“You’re right.” Kingsley noticed our attention had shifted and looked behind him. “Ah, Andromeda, Ted. How is…?” He was cut off as he realized they were in tears.

I shuffled uncomfortably. I couldn’t handle much more of this. Harry had lost it again beside me; it was clear going through her death again was too hard for him. At least he wouldn’t have enough energy to start another row with me about not being around.

Once Harry had recovered, Kingsley led me and Harry down the hallway to a small room—there were Remus and Teddy.

“Remus…” There was so much I wanted to say, but Remus simply shook his head, even more tired than when I’d seen him on the day of his arrest. He opened his arms to Harry, who accepted.

Teddy could tell something was wrong, his lower lip jutting out, looking between us, but he didn’t cry.

After a long embrace, Remus let go of Harry. Barely turning to me, he said, “Sirius, you should go.”

“What? But—”

“Get out.” He was shaking, rage and despair racking him in waves.

I glanced at Harry, who looked away, then grit my teeth and left.

Seeing Remus was like seeing a ghost of my entire existence. I had cut him out of my life and needed to maintain that division. If I couldn’t be around him when he had a wife and kid, how could I deserve to be around him at all? I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have thought he would forgive me.

**2 January, 2004 18:26**

“Charlie, can we talk?”

“Sure, what about?”

I realized, studying his pleasantly blank expression, that he had no idea what I was about to say. My confidence wavered. What if I was throwing my only shot at happiness away? Or Charlie’s only shot?

“Can you sit down?” I asked him, and sat on the couch.

“Course.” Charlie studied me, now aware that something was wrong.

I took a deep breath, and found that I was shaking. “Charlie, I love you. And there’s a part of me that will always care for you, but I think—I think it’s unfair to you for me to be with you when—when there’s someone else I care about, who I’ve cared about since probably my first year at Hogwarts.”

The freckles on his face stood out against the white of shock. I waited for him to say something, but he remained silent.

“I didn’t plan on loving—on fancying—Remus for this long. I didn’t plan that you’d be my way of moving on, it just happened. Timing’s a bitch. Don’t think I was only with you to move on from Remus, it was more than that—”

“You lied to me,” Charlie interjected. He was shaking his head, disbelieving. “You said there was nothing between you two. And now that Tonks has died…?”

“I didn’t ever make it a big deal because I didn’t want to hurt you. Remus was out of the picture, and finding someone new, however unlikely, seemed healthy.”

“Healthy for you.” Charlie rubbed his temple with his hand. “I need some time to think. Just—just come back tonight, we can talk then.”

I placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, drawing it away almost immediately; my touch had made him flinch. I knew, Disapparating from the flat, that our relationship of five years was over, and the damage was permanent.

**20 March, 2004 21:30**

_“Dear Sirius,_

_It’s been too long. I hear you’ve moved, that’s great that you can have a fresh start. I understand.”_

My fingers shook. I looked around for a quill before continuing to read—

_“When you’ve settled in, I’d like to—”_

I noticed the “like” was spaced awkwardly. I took out my wand and tapped the word. “Like” dissolved away to “love.”

_“When you’ve settled in, I’d love to see the place. Send me your address, brew me a cuppa, and I’ll be over.”_

_—Remus_

I summoned a mouse for Remus’ owl, then wrote a quick reply on the back of his letter:

_“Saturday, 4 pm, Latchmere Road, London SW11. Look for the blue house, only wizarding folk can see the color (there’s a pocket of homes for the Ministry) buzz in for number 8.”_

I sent the owl back with my reply, then surveyed the room. If I hadn’t had motivation to unpack before, I had it now.

Remus and I hadn’t spoken one on one, alone, since before he was imprisoned. It struck me how ironic that was, considering we had been in the same position before.

After only unpacking one box, the buzzer sounded, directing the image of the person on the housing unit’s doorstep to number eight. I walked to my door and looked in the Visitor Revealer.

It was Remus. My stomach dropped and I hurried out of my room, down the corridor, then opened the front door.

At the sight of me, Remus sighed with relief. “Sorry for coming over unannounced. Can I come in?”

“Er, sure. Did something happen?”

Remus didn’t answer directly, just slipped off his jacket and said, “I need a drink.”

“That bad?”

“Usually I have work to distract me. But that could only last so long. I had a lot to catch up on, but I finished yesterday. And I’ve been thinking—I want you to help me with werewolf policy. Raven and Hermione have been spearheading it since I was imprisoned, and they’ve come along way, but you and I could finish it.”

“I’m not interested in policy. But I’d love—I’d like to help with any field missions.”

“That’s fine. Er, brilliant.” Remus looked around the room, a little awkwardly. “So you aren’t going back to Romania, then? You’re settling down?”

“I ended things with Charlie, so no, I’m not.” I studied him. “You don’t seem surprised.”

Remus cleared his throat. “I heard about it at work. It ended badly, then? I don’t meant to—”

“I left him for you.”

Remus started and glared at me. “So you think because Tonks died and you left Charlie, we can be together?”

“No—”

Remus scoffed. “Of course. You were waiting for something like this to happen. You’re glad she’s dead.”

“Don’t be an idiot. I wish—I wish it could’ve gone one way or the other. I wish I hadn’t gone to Azkaban. Then we could’ve been together from the start. But because I _did_ go to Azkaban, I wish you could’ve ended up with Tonks, and I could’ve stayed with Charlie. I don’t want everything to seem pointless, our actions meaningless, because we ended up where we started.”

“She wasn’t meaningless to me. _Teddy_ isn’t meaningless to me.” He looked away. “Fuck you, Sirius.”

“Just _listen_ to me! I didn’t—”

“Tonks wasn’t supposed to die. Don’t reduce her to some obstacle in our relationship.”

I shivered at the cold fury in his eyes. “That’s not what I mean. She was good for you, but—”

“What ‘but’? I _loved_ her, I was happy, _we_ were happy, and if you don’t get that, then—it makes me wonder if you were with Charlie just to get back at me.”

I shook my head, frustrated that I couldn’t get through to him. “That’s not—you don’t understand—I loved him, too.”

“Then why have you never understood why Tonks and I were together? You’re so fucking selfish, you never cared that I was happy, just that you and I weren’t—”

“Fine! Is it such a bloody crime to be selfish? I thought being with Charlie would help me move on, but clearly you want to see it as a desperate attempt to get even!”

I hadn’t realized how much our argument had escalated; I had Remus nearly backed up against the china cabinet.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. “And wasn’t it?”

I didn’t answer, too distracted by how close we were.

Then Remus grabbed my collar and kissed me.

I had snapped out of my shock and started to reciprocate when he pulled away, let me go, and Disapparated.

I lay awake that night, trying not to think…Usually not thinking came naturally to me.

Did Remus’ sudden appearance mean he wanted to be with me? And if he still didn't know what to choose, how could I convince him? His main issue was assuming he shouldn't have been with Tonks. He blamed himself for her death and all he could really do at this point was move on. Her death was random, not calculated to spite him, and—well, I considered if I should tell him—she died in the previous timeline, too. They had both been living on borrowed time.

I could start by telling him about Harry and the Time-Turner, but doing so would risk him losing it.

I closed my eyes and imagined Remus sneaking into the room, sliding under the covers and, as I waited with bated breath, tugging off my trousers, and…

I snapped awake, confused that the night had already passed. What happened in my dream…? I looked down. _Oh._

I grabbed my wand to diffuse my erection and sat up, waiting for my head to clear. The passion was gone, and I felt hollow. I know I had it better than in the original timeline, but I couldn't help feeling dissatisfied.

I spent the rest of the day unpacking, waiting, thinking. Would he come back? What made him decide he wanted to see me, was it lust, or love, or the need to be comforted? Would this just be a phase to get over Tonks, or had he realized he wanted to be with me?

And if he wanted to be with me, I would come out. I wouldn’t hide our relationship, and maybe I’d grow to want people to know, to be jealous of what we had. At this, I imagined us together, and although I usually got off on sneaking around, there was something new in being unabashed, public. If that was what Remus wanted, I should handle it; enjoy it, even. I just wanted to be with him for the rest of my life.

I spent the evening sleeping, checking the Visitor Revealer every now and then in case Remus came back. When night arrived, I was no longer tired, so I took a bath, tidied up, caught up on the Daily Prophet. At half past two in the morning, I had a prickling instinct to check the Visitor Revealer.

Remus was pacing back and forth at the door, running his hands through his hair, clearly distressed. I hesitated, then buzzed him in. I didn’t meet him at the front door, instead I opened the door to my flat and waited.

He entered carefully, closing the door behind himself. “Sorry for coming by so late.”

I shrugged, not trusting myself to speak. I had no idea what he meant to do.

“I’m sorry I kissed you. I shouldn’t have.”

“Why not?” I asked, quiet.

Remus mumbled something, then cleared his throat and said louder, “It wasn’t meant to work between us.”

I looked at him. “Have you come back for me to convince you otherwise?”

Remus swallowed. “I don’t know. I don’t want you to be right.” He pressed his lips together, waiting for me to say something.

“Right about what? That we were meant for each other?”

“If we were meant for each other, then I wasn’t meant for Tonks.”

I didn’t reply at first, then took a step closer. “To hell with this ‘first choice’ shit. That’s what it is, it’s shit. We’ve been making it an issue for too long. When I was six, I had my first crush on a boy. I didn’t realize it until later, but that’s what it was. He seemed perfect at the time. If I had remained as that six-year-old, if I were still the same brainwashed little boy I was back then, I could call him that. My first choice. But I’m not the same person. He’s not, either.”

Remus was staring at me with such an angry intensity that I had to collect myself before continuing.

“Anyhow…with James, I was just fooling myself. And I don’t say that to feel sorry for myself; I wanted a version of James that I had invented. The James I wanted never really existed. He wasn’t on the verge of fancying men, he didn’t know me better than I know myself, I…I just wanted to believe those things, so that’s what I saw. I kept telling myself, if only he were this, or if only I had done this…but that shouldn’t make him my first choice. That was the problem, it was my idea of what my ‘first choice’ meant. Because what if my first choice changed? Would that make it less meaningful than some teenage fantasy?”

Remus shifted his head, almost as if he wanted to say no, but was too transfixed.

“Tonks may have been your first choice for a while. Raven, too. Just because now we’re meant for each other doesn’t mean at some point, you weren’t meant for them. But you can’t deny how we felt something from the first night we knew each other. I know I did. So that’s why I’m calling bullshit on my ‘first choice.’ _You’re_ my first choice, Remus. I want _you_. I love you.”

Remus’ composure broke and crossed to me. There was a brief pause as we stared at each other, chests swelling, before we kissed, slowly. When Remus pulled away, he said, “I love you, too.” He took in my expression, then went to the kitchen table and sat down heavily.

A bit confused, I sat down beside him.

Remus glanced up and took my hand. Taking in a deep breath to steady himself, he asked, “Would you marry me?”

My arms tingled with shock, and it was difficult to breathe. “I don’t know, is that—are you asking?”

“Teddy needs you to be a father to him, not just a boyfriend. And before you say there would be no difference, know that though there’s not a difference to us, but there will be in everyone else’s eyes. I know I tend not to care, or say I don’t care about everyone else, but I don’t want people thinking we’re just casual, or that we’re just—we’re—”

“Fuckbuddies? I don’t want that either.”

We stared at each other, my breath caught in my throat. Then I said, “Remus, I want to be with you. I love you. I love you more than I thought possible.”

Remus’ eyes were red-rimmed, but I knew by the weightlessness in his movements that he was as purely, completely happy as I was.

We stood, and he pulled me into his arms. Waves of relief and excitement passing between each other, we kissed again, finally secure in our future.

**21 July, 2007 11:26**

“Disgusting.”

“I thought the Ministry was better than this.”

“Apparently not,” I said, throwing the paper down onto the table.

“When the Muggles passed the Equality Act Regulations in last year, you remember what I said, don’t you?”

“I remember we both knew it was only a matter of time—”

“…before the Ministry did the same, and clearly we were wrong.” 

Teddy stepped cautiously out into the kitchen, eyes wide.

“Teddy.” Remus glanced at me before saying, “Teddy, I’m sorry if we scared you. It’s just that—we’ve told you it’s okay for two men to be together like your father and I, haven’t we?” 

“What about two women?” Teddy asked, and when he noticed me smile, he giggled.

“Yes, two women, of course.”

Remus bent down so he and Teddy were at eye level. Teddy immediately became solemn, attentive. Remus touched Teddy’s cheek, lightly. “I want to make this very clear, Teddy. There is no reason for someone to be judged as bad if they have feelings for boys, or girls, or both boys and girls. They’ve no reason to be made fun of, not by their friends, or the Ministry, or anyone. I can’t explain it very clearly to you yet, but know that there are people who disagree with us. You have to ignore the mean people and be true to yourself.”

Teddy nodded. “Okay. Are you mad at me?”

I glanced at Remus. “Of course not. We want life to be better for you and your generation, so we’re working to fix what we don’t think is right.”

As Remus hugged Teddy, I had the oddest sense of déjà vu.

**Conclusion:**

**1 September, 2017 10:42**

The platform bustled with emotional parents, impatient students, a cacophony of animal sounds, and short squeals of little siblings.

Remus and I were disoriented at first, and tried to find anchor in a familiar face, but it seemed the Weasleys and Potters had not yet arrived.

“Hello, Sirius, Remus.”

We turned. Dean and Seamus stood together, a bit shyly, which made them appear much younger than they were. “Good morning.”

Remus grinned at the girl who stood between them. “Is this Lucia?”

In response, she beamed up at us and extended her hand.

After we had passed the Wizarding Equality Act in 2012, letters of thanks had poured in from the QW—Queer Wizards and Witches—community who now enjoyed the same rights as everyone else. One of those rights included adoption rights for QW couples. Dean and Seamus were one of the first couples to adopt under the new laws, and had written from their home in Scotland to thank us.

“Lovely to meet you, Lucia.”

“Dads say you’re the reason they could have me,” she said simply. “Thank you.”

“We’re just glad we could help. It’s lovely to meet you, Lucia.” Remus straightened and nodded to Dean and Seamus as they left to talk to a couple that was vaguely familiar—an athletic-looking man with brown hair and gray eyes, and his wife, who I remembered Harry mentioning as someone he fancied in the original timeline. Cho?

Raven came up to us, breaking my thoughts.

“Remus, Sirius, how was Brazil?” Raven pulled us each into a hug.

“Beautiful. And a bit sad, with Teddy moving out the next week and all.”

I looked around for Teddy. “They’re very independent, though, so we don’t worry about them much.”

“ _You_ don’t worry about them much,” Remus corrected.

“So it’s still ‘they,’ then, not ‘he’ or ‘she’…?” Raven asked, following my gaze.

“Right. Apparently it’s common with Metamorphmagi to not identify with a particular gender. I still don’t understand it much, but Teddy bogs—or is it blogs?—about it on the Internet, and we’ve read some of their pieces.”

Before we had a chance to lament about the sudden prevalence of the labyrinth known as the Internet, Severus and Themis joined us.

“Hi, Remus, Sirius,” Themis said, smiling. She was much more self-assured since the last time I’d seen her in June, brown eyes sharp, springy coils of hair bobbing slightly as she moved her head. Her eyes flickered to our clasped hands, then back up. “I thought you might want to know, I just saw—”

“Sirius! Remus! Teddy, they’re—” James Albus Potter appeared beside Themis, breathless. “Guess who I just saw snogging behind one of the columns over there?” He pointed, eyes wide. “Teddy and Victoire!”

“Really?” My eyebrows shot up. “Victoire, as in Bill’s daughter?”

James rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. “Yes, what other Victoire do you know? They’re snogging _my_ cousin!” He looked between us. “Haven’t you heard what I said?”

I lowered my voice. “Teddy with Charlie’s niece. Now, that would be an interesting match.”

It was Remus’ turn to roll his eyes. “C’mon, they were only snogging.”

James fidgeted impatiently. “I’m going to find someone who cares. My parents, for example.” He ran off.

“Was Prongs really like that at fourteen?” I asked Remus, grinning.

Raven answered before I could. “This James is much more well-intentioned. Leonora, on the other hand, reminds me of him.”

Themis lifted her chin. “Leonora is always in trouble. Roxanne says Leonora, Roger, andCyrus—this fifth year Gryffindor—stay out most of the night, they pull pranks…”

“She and Roxanne are close friends,” Raven explained to us.

“We’re more than friends, mum.” Her eyes widened, realizing how that sounded. “I mean, we’re _best_ friends.”

Raven and Severus exchanged a small smile.

“Hello,” Harry joined our small circle, arms outstretched.

“Harry!” I embraced him, laughing a bit.

He hugged each of us in turn—Remus, Raven, Themis, and Severus—then stepped a bit back to make room for Jacob and Lily to join the group.

“You excited for your first year at Hogwarts?” I asked Jacob.

He nodded. “I want to know what house I’ll be sorted into. James says I’d be sorted into Ravenclaw or Slytherin, but I’m not so sure.”

“Any house would be lucky to have you,” Remus said.

Raven smiled at Jacob. “And you know you’ll have friends already in any of the houses. Gryffindor, there’s Hugo, James, Roger…Hufflepuff, there’s Harriet, and Pandora—”

At the mention of Neville and Luna’s daughter Pandora, Jacob flushed. “I know. I’ve talked with Pandora about everything, and she says people don’t care about Houses so much, it’s easy to have friends outside of your own house.”

Themis nodded. “Roxanne is Gryffindor, like George and Angelina, and I’m Slytherin like Dad, but it doesn’t matter, we’re still best mates.”

“Lily!” Two voices called in unison from across the platform. We turned to see twins Nymphadora and Rose racing to Lily, weaving between passerby. Behind them, Ron, Hermione, and Hugo walked more slowly, mother and son watching them nearly collide with luggage with a mixture of concern and disdain, father with amusement.

“Good morning,” Hugo greeted everyone.

“Did you see Scorpius?” Nymphadora chirped to Lily. “He’s so cute.”

“Ew!” Rose exclaimed. “He’s all weird and pale!”

They were making a scene, pointing and giggling, so Draco, his wife Astoria, and Scorpius all looked over.

Once they realized what was happening, Astoria leaned closer to Draco to hide her laugh. Draco looked to Harry and smiled briefly before they continued to move along.

“Hey, I see Pandora!” Jacob pointed at one of the carriage windows. “Can I go now, Mum, Dad? I don’t want it to get full.”

We gave them space to say their goodbyes, observing the last students to board the Hogwarts Express with a mingled sense of nostalgia for when life was simpler and a sense of peace at the happiness of the families.

“I wonder how much is different now because of Harry.”

I looked at Remus. He usually tried not to speculate on what could’ve been, even insisting at times that I take away his memory of me telling him about the timelines. I put my arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. “You and I wouldn’t be together, for one.”

“It won’t be enough,” Remus said quietly, averting his gaze. “We have ten years left, if even that.”

“Merlin, you’re dark today.” Despite my effort to make light of what he said, chills spread through me.

Remus sighed. “The full moon is five days away and I can tell—it’s just getting harder, is all. I can tell.”

I squeezed his hand. “We’ve had nineteen extra years, and for twelve of those years we’ve been together.” I leaned in closer to him. “You’re right, the only thing I would wish for is more time. But you remember what Harry said about the original timeline? He saw us as ghosts. Our souls, they live on.”

Remus shook his head. “They weren’t the same as ghosts. I think they aren’t real, they’re just echoes.” He smiled at Percy and Audrey before continuing. “I suppose I can—I can be alright knowing we made a difference. Our legacy will live on, at least.” He stifled a laugh. “We’d be appalled, as kids, knowing we wouldn’t be remembered as the blokes who ruled Hogwarts. We’ll be the horny gay couple parents warn their children about.”

“You should be excited that Chocolate Frog cards will have a little picture of us fucking instead of sneaking out after hours, hexing Slytherins.”

Remus snorted, then looked around to make sure no children had been within earshot. He hesitated, and I could tell he had become serious again. “Are you going to get on without me?”

I wished desperately to stop talking about death, but knew the subject had been pressing on him. “I’ll go to Nocturne Alley on the weekends—I’ve heard good things about the services there—blow my salary on men in their peak physical shape so I can feel young again…” 

“Honestly, though?”

I met his eyes. “I have Teddy and Harry. At first, I’ll probably want to throw myself on an Erumpent horn, but that’ll pass with time.”

After Remus and I Apparated back home, we were cast in silence. I had never felt older than in that conversation, considering our inevitable death and what it would be like to live for decades without Remus.

A choked gasp came from the kitchen. I rushed in, some twisted instinct expecting to find Remus dead.

Trembling, he was staring at the letter in his hand, face pale.

“What is it? What’s happened?”

“A cure.”

“What?” 

“The letter’s from Damocles.”

I rushed to his side and read over his shoulder, scanning for a line to clue me in.

_… After numerous trials on werewolves who served Voldemort, I have perfected a cure for Lycanthropy. If you are interested..._

“Remus, this means—”

“I know. We have more time.” He dropped the letter and embraced me.

As I tightened my arms around him, I felt at peace.

We were one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently writing another story which will feature Harry and Draco and plan to publish it this summer (by then, it will be almost complete). Sirius x Remus will be included, using the canon of this story before the new timeline!


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